“You’re going to do what to my room?”

I glared at my father, who at least had the decency to shrink back a bit. “You’ve always said you needed more closet space,” he said, hands raised in a placating gesture. “And it’ll only be two weeks, I promise!”

I groaned, turning away from my father so I didn’t give into the urge to throttle him. I love my dad, but he fancies himself a handyman, so every year he gets it into his head to try some sort of home improvement project. By now, mom and I have learned to double any estimate he gives on such projects, and knocking down a wall and putting in a walk-in closet did not sound like a two-week project. More like a month.

I took a calming breath, and turned to face him again. “So where am I going to sleep while you do this?” I demanded.

“Why don’t you call your sister and see if she’ll let you stay at the boutique for a couple of weeks?” dad suggested. I pondered that for a second. Honestly, it was a good idea; I always liked staying with Rarity, and she did have a spare bedroom.

Rarity was easy enough to reach on our phone, but the answer was not the one I wanted.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sweetie Belle, but I am neck deep in my summer line and I cannot be disturbed right now,” Rarity said on the other end of the line.

I sighed. I knew from experience what Rarity was like when she had a deadline staring her in the face, and I did not want to be living with her when she was in that state. We clashed often enough as it is. “Don’t worry about it Rarity. We’ll figure something out.” I threw a glare at dad, the or else left unspoken. “You just get your lineup finished. I know how important these seasonal lines are to your business.”

As I grew older I had taken it upon myself to learn more about the fashion world, partly due to my own growing interest in clothes but also to better know my sister’s schedule and save us both a lot of trouble.

“Well, alright. But! I will not have my little sister spend a whole month away from a nice bed! I shall be finished with my summer line in about two weeks, and then you can come stay over. Quite frankly, I’ll probably your need help unwinding after all this.”

I smiled. Probably two weeks doing things with my sister, with no work to get between us? I am so up for that. “Great! Good luck with your summer line, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Bye!”

“Goodbye, Sweetie Belle!”

I heard the click as Rarity hung up, and put the phone back in its cradle. “Well, Rarity’s a bust,” I said to my dad.

“Well, uh, there’s always the couch, hon,” he said weakly.

“I am not sleeping on the couch for two weeks,” I told him flatly. “C’mon, there’s gotta be a better solution.”

“Dear, do we still have that old tent and air mattress?” my mom, who had been silent up till now, said. I blinked at the apparent non-sequitur, but it seemed to spark an idea in dad.

“Of course! We could just set up the tent and you could sleep outside in the back yard!” He must have noticed my decidedly unenthusiastic expression, because he immediately tried to sell the idea to me. “It’ll be like those camping trips we went on when you were little.”

“You mean the ones Rarity was always complaining about?” I deadpanned. “Kidding. I’ll do it. Better than sleeping on the couch.”

We spent that afternoon getting the two-man tent set up. I had to admit, with the air mattress and generous supply of pillows, it was a pretty comfortable setup. My dad assured me that my clothes would still be accessible if I wanted to change in my room rather than in the tent.

It wasn’t until I changed for the first night and went out in my nightclothes that I realized two things: first, that I was going to be spending a significant amount of time out in the open in my nightclothes, and second, that there was actually very little chance that anyone could see me in the back yard.

You see, our house, like most on the outskirts of Ponyville, sits on a large plot of land with fenced sides and an open back yard. For the most part, this led to a field, but ours was one of the ones back up to the Whitetail Woods. Most houses, ours included, further lined their fences with a row of trees or large shrubs. It made it a pain to fix them up, but it looked good, and more importantly ensured a great deal of privacy. So, I wasn’t worried about being seen by neighbors once my parents were asleep.

Besides, being outside in my nightclothes didn’t bother me all that much anyway. The knee-length, short-sleeved nightgown Rarity made for me for my 18th birthday a couple months ago was rather modest, especially compared to what I had overheard Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon saying they wore. It was like they were in a competition to see who could wear the flimsiest, skimpiest nightwear.

Why am I explaining this? Because it was these two factors that dredged up long-forgotten feelings from my childhood, and started me on a path I never thought I would walk.

~o~

I was nine, in elementary school, when it happened. We were having swimming classes that day, so we all had to use locker rooms to change into our swimsuits. I lingered a bit in the pool after class, for reasons I can no longer remember, and when I got back to my locker I found my clothes were gone. I later found out that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had taken them, looking to taunt me, but I didn’t know that then. All I knew was that my clothes were gone, I couldn’t find them, and everyone had gone home already, so I couldn’t ask for help. I was pretty panicked, and in my panic I made a rather dumb decision: sneak over to Carousel Boutique to change, rather than my closer and not-across-the-busy-town-center house.

Yeah, I know it was dumb. Give me a break, I was nine and in a panic.

The whole ordeal was intensely embarrassing and nerve-wracking. Looking back it seems so silly that I was worked up about being seen in public in my swimsuit, but back then I thought I might die of shame if I got caught. And yet, underneath it all I could feel my heart pounding, not from nerves, but from excitement.

I got home fine, by the way, and boy were Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon surprised to see me arrive at my house fully dressed. I put that incident out of my mind as just another one of their mean pranks, and didn’t think about it again until that night.

That first night, standing in the back yard in my nightgown, the memory of that incident came back to me. I remembered how excited I felt, and as I slipped into my sleeping bag and went to sleep I couldn’t stop thinking about that feeling, and what prompted me to feel that way.

That night, I dreamed of me, naked, running through a field of golden grass, wild and free.

~o~

When I woke up the next morning the memory of that dream stayed with me. It felt right, somehow, in a way I couldn’t really explain to myself. I spent the day with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, and that did a good job of pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, but they came back full force when I got back home. As I thought about it further, I came to a decision.

I wanted to feel that feeling again. And the source, I had realized, had been being in my swimsuit, of the thought of being so underdressed in public. It was flouting that taboo, of those rules saying what to wear, that was so exciting. To feel it again, I would once more need to be underdressed in public. Or, a small part of me thought to myself, maybe even naked

But, I didn’t want to feel it in a desperate trek across town. Baby steps. I decided that I would sleep naked while I was in the tent; after all, no one could see me. I also made a mental note to go swimming at Sweet Apple Acres again sometime soon. I had a very nice pink bikini I could wear, and while normally I would wear a tank top or t-shirt and shorts over it, I decided that I would forgo the shirt and walk over in a bikini top and shorts. I went to sleep thinking happy thoughts of walking through town like that.

I’m not entirely sure what happened next. All I know is that I found myself standing in the middle of the lawn, completely naked. I must’ve woken up to go to the bathroom or something, and not really registered what I was doing. I immediately froze, frantically looking around for anyone nearby. There was nobody.

It took me a few minutes, but the mind-rending panic eventually died down, at which point it hit me: I was outside, naked, and no one could see me. I could feel a dopy grin spread across my face, and I flopped down on my belly in the grass. It was both simultaneously itchy and ticklish, and very pleasantly cool against my skin. I spent a few minutes just lying there, rolling in the grass, feeling it prick my legs and back and stomach.

Finally, I just flopped on my back and looked up at the stars. I spent a moment just lying there, contemplating what to do next. Well, why not explore a bit? I got up, grabbed the flip-flops I kept near the tent, and set out to explore my back yard.

Honestly, it was pretty boring. Ours was just a lawn with several lines of trees and a patio with a table and some deck chairs. I briefly debated going into the Whitetail Woods, but my newfound confidence wasn’t quite up for a night nature excursion yet. Thus, the logical place to go next was the front yard.

Peeking my head around to make sure there were no pedestrians or cars, I stepped out onto the front lawn. This was definitely more risky; streetlights illuminated the sidewalk at regular intervals, and the houses all faced the street. That they were all dark did little to calm me. Despite, or perhaps because of, the risk, I felt even more excited than before. I wanted to walk, to move, to display my body for all to see. And I could feel a heat building in my gut. I was actually getting aroused by this!

Spurred on, I crossed the lawn and stepped onto the sidewalk. When nothing happened, I turned down the street and began to walk.

Now I was exposed in earnest, and I could feel my arousal building with every step. I had masturbated before, and I was tempted to start right then and there, but I decided to hold off to see how far I could go before I needed relief.

As I walked and got used to my current mindset, I set an objective: a nice park down the street. I was thinking I would circle through and then head back. As I walked, I kept a keen eye - and ear - out for anyone walking by or any cars. As much as I was enjoying being outside naked, I did not want to be seen.

I was about to reach the park when suddenly I saw headlights in the distance. A car! I frantically looked around for a place to hide, and spotted a large willow tree, its boughs nearly touching the ground. I immediately ran for it, or at least, ran as best I could in my flip-flops. I got under the tree, shaking, and not long after I could hear the car roll past.

I spent the next few minutes huddled under the tree, working up the courage to see if there was anyone out there. Poking my head out from the boughs of the willow, I didn’t see anything. And the near miss had actually heightened my desire. Courage restored, I stepped out from under the willow and into the park.

My walk in the park was uneventful. I made sure to keep note of hiding spots for a possible future excursion, including the willow at the front. By the time I got to the end of the loop trail, I was practically dripping from arousal, and I was honestly unsure whether I could make it back to the tent before bringing myself to orgasm. This, combined with a desire to avoid another close call, made me hurry as I set out down the street again.

By the time I got back to the front yard I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled off my flip-flops and sprinted onto the grass in the back yard, and flopped onto my back on the grass. My hands flew to my pussy, and I immediately began masturbating. Aroused as I was, it didn’t take me long before I had to bite my lip as a roaring orgasm tore through me. Exhausted, I crawled back into my sleeping bag and fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning still tired, I knew I wouldn’t be doing any more late-night excursions anytime soon. Luckily, I still had the Whitetail Woods right behind my house. Though the forest has several popular footpaths, there’s still quite a bit of virgin forest the trails go nowhere near. If I could get into the woods, I would be covered.

That just left the problem of my parents, and I had to wait a few days before the opportunity arose.

~o~

“Sweetie Belle, we’re going shopping for shelving for your new closet today,” my father announced over breakfast. “We should be done by mid-afternoon, but are you okay with staying home alone until then?”

Translation, I thought, we’ll be home for dinner. “Sure, Dad, no problem. I’ve been meaning to do some tanning today.”

It wasn’t even a lie. I had been planning to bust out my pink bikini and get some sun. Mom and dad going out all day just gave me an opportunity to make good on my plans for the Whitetail Wood. While my parents prepared for their trip, I rushed upstairs to change into my swimsuit. Putting it on, I took a moment to admire myself in the mirror.

As I mentioned, the bikini was pink. The top was in the usual halter style, and tied at the front with a cute bow. The bottoms were cut high at the legs, and tied off into more bows. Best of all, I had grown a bit since I bought it a year ago, shortly after my 17th birthday, so now I filled it out snugly, rather than it be a little loose.

Grabbing a towel, sunglasses, and some sunscreen, I got downstairs in time to send my parents off. Just in case they had forgotten something, I set myself up outside and put on my sunscreen, then laid down in the sun. After about fifteen minutes, I was fairly sure my parents weren’t going to come back for something, so I quickly stripped off my bikini, put on my sandals, and headed into the woods.

Walking in the woods was very different from walking on the street. The risk of being seen was lower, but that was replaced by a tedious need to navigate the uncut forest without getting scratched up. Never before have I so disliked waist-high shrubs. Still, it was exciting, though not quite as much as that first walk down the street. I could feel that heat in my gut building again.

And then I heard a twig snap nearby.

I almost froze, but instead ducked behind a large tree. What was someone doing all the way out here in the woods? Cautiously, I poked my head out, and heard the crunch of someone stepping on dry leaves. There! I could see movement behind a large fern. The person stepped out and-

There was Scootaloo, naked and covered in mud, her mud-soaked clothes slung over the handlebars of her scooter. I was so shocked I couldn’t help myself.

“Scootaloo?!”