Naughty, Naughty Kath – A Years-Ago Event, three [part 2 of 5]
By: KathHal (LawyersInc@aol.com)

Naughty, Naughty Kath – A Years Ago Story, Two

As I walked across the courtyard towards Keith’s building, I felt a shudder of nervousness. Doing an exhibitionist stunt for him from my own apartment, at a safe distance, was one thing. But was I pushing the envelope with paying him a personal visit, with further exposure of myself expected – implicitly, if not explicitly. To be sure, I had every right to accept his offer of a glass of wine, talk about books – but keep my clothes on, and not be a show-off.

But I knew that whatever Keith wished to see, I would show him. My fingers had given me two, maybe three climaxes already, including a Super Cum under the shower, when soap suds made my pussy especially slick.

Nonetheless, I remained horny as hell, and I was glad that I had a date the next evening, a Friday, with a very virile and charming guy who fucked me so well and long and hard that he made my legs wobbly. (Ladies, I am sure that some of you have encountered a guy who fucks you so well that you are in a quasi-daze after multiple cums. Well, that was what I had in store for me in about 24 hours.)

Just to confirm my line-of-sight estimates on privacy, I glanced up at my apartment. I had left the light on, and just as I expected, the balcony came out far enough that from the courtyard you could not even see the window, much less inside. Whew. What I had done had been witnessed by Keith alone.

His door was slightly ajar, and when I knocked he called, Come on in, pretty lady, mi casa es su casa!

He was in his wheelchair, of course, and he expertly pushed himself over to greet me, extending his hand for a shake. He smiled. I must say, dear Kath, that you just gave me the more pleasurable half hour that I have experienced in years! You have an incredibly beautiful body, and I thank you for sharing it with me, even if only visually. And you looked so natural, so…well, at ease, in the nude….and touching yourself! And you were making it personal for me! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Hearing his kind words, and the compliment, told me that I had done the right thing. I returned his smile. You are very welcome, Keith.

Now, what does a young working girl have to do to get a drink in this place? I winked.

Keith already had a bottle of chilled Chardonnay on the coffee table, and he poured us each a glass as I sat in a big overstuff easy chair across from him. We clinked glasses. I said, From a very naughty little girl to a very charming host! Chug-a-lug!

Naughty? Oh, maybe, I guess it depends on your definition. I would call you a ‘very caring girl’ who is happy to bring a touch of sunshine into another person’s life. I mean it, Kath, What I saw a few minutes ago was not ‘dirty’ by any stretch of the term.

You simply chose to show me what you did in the privacy of your apartment, and I am touched that you trusted me enough to do so. Well, Keith, I guess there is a touch of exhibitionism in every woman. Being naked around other people has never bothered me. My parents had a ‘no clothes allowed’ swimming pool from the time I was born, and on warm days it would be full of naked aunts and uncles and cousins and even some neighbors. Nudity was natural to me, from the beginning. \ I laughed. When I was a pre-teen, I used to wonder if I would ever grow boobs like my Mom and my aunts had, or if and when those nice clumps of hair would cover my little pussy.

I was SO proud when I had my first period, and these – (I rubbed my chest) – began to grow, and I had first little crop of hairs down here – (rubbing my hand lightly over my groin). And by the time I was 14, my breasts were about as large as they are now. Some of it was ‘baby fat’ to be sure. But thanks be that I had a very busty grandmother, and Mom. She and her sisters were in the 38 range, as are my girl cousins. A blessing, and I mean it.

Keith grinned. And, of course, you never laid an eye on the guys, did you?

I found myself blushing. To be truthful, I’d look at Uncle ___ or Uncle ___ , or my Dad for that matter, and I found myself wondering, ‘How on earth could ANY woman take something that large into her pussy?

It must hurt like hell! I laughed. But in due course, I discovered how things worked, sexually, And I found that sex was a heckuva’ lot of fun.

I shook my head. But enough talk about me and my past. Let’s go back to what we were talking about the other afternoon – whether there was anything at all the Czars could have done to change things in Russia so that there was not a revolution….

Keith seemed willing to change the subject, which was sort of a relief to me. I did not want our relationship to center on the size of my boobs, or my first pussy hair, or the size of adult dicks I saw when I was a kid.

Thus we talked Russia for about half an hour, refilling our glasses two or three times, me volunteering to fetch a new bottle from the frig.

Perhaps it was the wine, or maybe the ease of being with someone I really liked, but I found myself getting horny again. Up until now, I had sat demurely in my chair, legs folded beneath me. As I mentioned earlier, I wore loose-fitting shorts that had the capability of gapping if I spread my legs apart, thereby giving Keith a look at my scanty, see-through panties, and the outline of my pubic patch through the fabric.

Should I proceed to show some flesh now? The very thought of doing so made me tingle, and I felt my nipples harden beneath my T-shirt. No bra, so of course the little points pushed against the shirt, and I could see Keith’s eyes flicker to them, pause, flicker away, and then come back for a further look.

daring outrageous exhibitionism

OK, good man, you obviously like what you are seeing, so let’s go Big Time!!!

I carefully placed my wine glass on a side table, raised my arms into the air for a big stretch – yep, my boobs rose up as I did so!! – and then slipped off my flip-flops and rested my feet on the low coffee table that separated us. I could not see myself, of course, but the way Keith looked at my groin, and the expression on his face, told me that he was getting a good panty-view. I raised my left leg, meaning that my shorts fell even further away from my upper thigh.

And as Keith gaped, I continued nonsense chatter about books, acting as if I was oblivious to the fact that I was partially exposing myself.

The fact that his eyes were so fixed on me made me even hornier. I squirmed in the chair.

OK, Kath, get with it.

I gave Keith my best innocent smile. Well, Keith, do you like what you are seeing?

He nodded. He said nothing. He kept staring.

Would you like to see more? Would you like a better view?

Again, silence, but another nod.

You are going to have to ask me. Go ahead, say it: ‘Kath, I want to see your pussy.’ Can you do that?

He smiled. Kath, I want to see your pussy. Indeed, I would LOVE to see your pussy. Would you it to me, please?

That was nice of you to say ‘please,’ Keith. You are a real gentleman, and I like that. OK, you can see my pussy. But let me get rid of this T-shirt first. That way, you can get a good look at my breasts first. OK?

I arose and stood facing Keith, and with one swift motion my hands whisked my T-shirt over my head. I tossed it to the side of the couch. I stood facing Keith, a hand on my hip, smiling.

What do you say, coach? Do I make the team?

He laughed. You are definitely in the starting lineup! My God, Kath, your breasts are absolutely gorgeous!

And what a delight of a woman you are….

I bowed and did a half turn, so that he could have a side view. Of course, Keith, you know that gravity will get the best of them in due course, and they’ll start ‘going south.’ But let’s not worry about that this evening. Now, you wanted to see something else as I recall…. exhibitionism is it legal

Still facing him, and smiling, I very slowly undid the top buttons of my shorts. Oh, but I could feel my pussy getting even wetter, and I found myself on the brink of a spontaneous orgasm – without even touching myself. I was THAT turned on! My initial thought was to drop my shorts and parade around in front of Keith wearing only my panties.

No. Go ahead and show the fellow the whole package; that is what he wants to see.

I tugged my shorts down past my waistline, and I hooked my fingers in the elastic band of my panties, and one big push sent both garments down my legs and away. I stepped out of them and stood proudly naked in front of my friend, hands on my hips.

Keith just stared at me for a minute or so, licking his lips, obviously admiring the sight of my bared pussy. Kath, I’ve got to tell you something very personal, OK? Hear out, please, and promise me that you won’t be offended?

Sure, Keith, we are friends. Tell me whatever you wish.

Keith gulped Obviously this was difficult for him.

As I told you at the outset, below my waist, I am a dead man. Sex is out of the question for me, and I have to wear a couple of bags, which is why I never come to the pool in a swim suit.

But as I told you, I get great pleasure out of admiring girls, and especially someone as downright beautiful as you are. But seeing a woman in a bathing suit is one thing, and seeing a woman in the nude is another. And you are the first woman who has stripped for me as a friend – and not for pay – since my accident.

I was a bit surprised. Strip for pay? Tell me more.

The last time a woman got naked for me because she loved me was the morning of my accident, he said, and I could see his face writhe with sadness.

She was my fiancee, and we made love – yes, made love, not fucked – twice before we even got out of bed. Then we went out to ski and…..well, what happened, happened.

Fiancee? Did the two of you go ahead and marry?

Keith shook his head. Once I realized what kind of condition I was going to be in for the rest of my life – a chair-rider, an impotent forever – I broke off with her. She offered to stay with me ;regardless. But I told her no, that one ruined life was enough. We both cried, but she eventually agreed with me. We parted as friends, and we agreed never to see one another again. End of story.

I wanted to put my arms around Keith and smother him with a hug. But when I moved towards him, he put up a hand to stop me. Kath, let’s keep it without physical contact, OK? It’s one thing just to look at you, but touching you would just remind me of what I’ve lost.

Now, I mentioned paying a woman to get naked for me. Over the years, I’ve called escort services and told them my situation, and asked if any woman would do that sort of gig for me – just take off her clothes and sit around the room naked while we talked.

No sex, no touching, just a visual show. It cost a few bucks – not many – but what the hell, I am a moderately wealthy man – family money, mostly – so why not spend it on something I enjoy?

And now you come into my life, and you choose to give me more joy than I have experienced in a long long time. I feel great affection for you, Kath, and it pleases me no end what you are doing for me. Now, how about pouring us another glass of wine and sit down and let’s talk about whatever you wish…..Thanks….

Right then and there, I felt as close to Keith as I have ever felt towards any man. That the mere display of my body brought him such joy made his admission all the more moving. What did we talk about? Non-sexual stuff, to be sure, and some chatter about the inanities of academia, and dumb-ass students who had come through his classes.

As I relaxed, I began getting horny again.

I had crossed my legs when I first set down, in proper lady fashion, so that my pussy was more or less hidden. But as the wine took hold, I relaxed, and without giving it much thought, I uncrossed my legs and spread them slightly, deliberately putting my pussy on direct display again.

Keith noticed, oh yes he noticed! His eyes fixed on my groin. He was almost bold in his direct stare at me. I smiled. Do you like looking at my naked pussy, Keith?

Kath, your pussy is gorgeous, as is your entire body. And, yes, I DO like looking at it. That slit right down the middle, visible right through the hair.

And your labia – Kath, they look like sections of an orange, but made out of flesh. They seem sort of puffy, but in a pretty way. Is that because you are turned on?

I smiled, and I deliberately raised one leg and put my foot on the coffee table. A brief downward glance told me that my pussy had fallen wide open, and that in all likelihood Keith was seeing the inner pink of my cunnie.

My pussy really feels wet, Keith. Does it look that way to you? And do you know what I like to do when my pussy is wet, and I am turned on

Keith smiled. I have an idea, Kath, and you might remember that you gave me a brief preview when I was watching you through the window. He paused.

Kath, would it be asking too much if I wanted you to masturbate again, so that I can see first-hand how you get yourself off? Now if that is too much, I apologize…..

I hushed him with a wave of my hand. Relax, dear, and sit back. I am going to give you a demonstration of Jilling Off 101, the way I’ve been doing it long before I had boobs and hair on my pussy. Look, this is the way I start….:

I put the flat of my hand over my mons and I began rubbing……

• Hook-up by: cptn_average i have…
• Save Me – Day 2

Natalie has a fetish, she loves to see a spurting cock. [part 1 of 2]
By: Lucky

Natalie thought about how she got to this, her passion for her particular fetish. She loved the thought of having sex with black men, wanted to feel them dominate her, fuck her, have them force her to suck their huge black cocks, have her feel it splashing on her naked flesh. And it was no secret to Chuck, her husband; in fact, they now shared this fantasy, used it in their lovemaking to the point that Chuck had bought a very large black dildoe for her, which she used often, much to the delight of her husband.

As they drove to the restaurant for their anniversary dinner she was thinking about what he had planned for later in the evening, when they got home. The grandparents were baby sitting so he’d hinted at a special present, one that he thought she’d really like and enjoy. With no one else in the house it would be a treat to act out her fantasies and be able to be as vocal as she wanted and needed to be. And with the additional thrill of having their sexual escapades videotaped and posted on the internet, oh god, she was getting wet again just thinking about it, and about the comments of the people, both men and women, who were watching. At first she was hesitant to masturbate and let the world see her doing it, and then having sex with her husband, both of them totally on display, but when it happened, when he pointed the camera at her and told her to close her eyes and relax, just let it happen, oh god, it took her breath away!

Honey, how many guys do you think are watching, she asked as she watched the comments come up on their computer monitor.

There are about thirty tonight, monkey, all lusting for your luscious body, and that includes a few women, too.

And how many … and she dropped her eyes, but he knew what she was referring to, the softness of her voice betraying her arousal.

Four, so far. The words seared her mind, knowing that four men had masturbated while watching her on their PCs and then sent in a video or a still picture of them cumming, gouts of semen splattering their monitors with her image there, or photographs of her that they’d printed for that purpose, tributes to her beauty and adventuresome behavior.

Now totally wet between her thighs, she remembered how it began. One of her first boyfriends, her first serious boyfriend, would eventually get her bra off and fondle her breasts, and finally her panties, soaked with her lust, and he’d open his fly and let her feel his hardness. The first time she slipped her hand into his shorts and felt the throbbing rod of his cock she nearly had an orgasm.

She now realized that it was the power she had felt, the power of making him hard and hungry for her, that it was her option as to whether he would be satisfied or not. It made her feel beautiful and desired.

C’mon, Natalie, move your hand on it, it feels so good! But she was hesitant.

Show me what you mean, show me how to do it. Her eyes were wide with interest and curiosity. In the dim light she could see it quivering, could actually smell it now, musky and exciting, could feel the warmth on her fingers as she tentively touched it. He placed his hand on hers but she pulled away, sat back.

No, show me yourself, so he encircled it in his fist, his fingers wrapped around its girth, the dark head with the darker hole at the tip, and began moving his hand up and down slowly as she watched. His breathing grew faster as he saw the look of amazement in her soft eyes, and his hand moved faster.

You do it, too, to yourself, it’s only fair. If you’re watching me then I want to watch you, and, seeing the logic in that, and being in such a heightened state of arousal herself, she pulled her panties aside and began to tenderly touch her now thoroughly soaked pussy, her fingers sliding sensuously through the furrow in the brown pubic patch.

Before he asked her to exhibit herself for him she’d thought she couldn’t have been more turned on, but now, as her fingers began to separate the silken folds of her labia, oh god, she was close to orgasm again!

He watched her fingers, and as he grew more excited he also grew more demanding, telling her to open her lips so he could see inside. I wanna see your cunt, it’s so wet, and touch your nipples, you have such beautiful tits, and each time he said something which she had previously thought to be crude and insulting, instead she felt more wetness, more tingling in her nipples and her pussy, more excitement in her belly.

The first time she saw him ejaculate he came all over his own chest and belly, the semen flying out in long thick white streams, his groans music to her, and as she watched him cumming her fingers found her clit and she was moaning along with him, her body shaking as her orgasm flooded her.

Eventually she allowed him, and then encouraged him, to cum on her tits, so that she could feel the, to her, molten heat of his semen covering her flesh, then rubbing her breasts, spreading it all over her overheated skin, her nipples burning with the touch of his wetness.

Of course, this led quickly to her tasting it, sucking her fingers, noticing the difference between his taste and the taste of her pussy juices, marveling how at times his was slightly sweet but then salty at others, wondering if she could somehow control the flavor, and she laughed.
daring exhibitionism caught
Then the ultimate move, she had to find out how it would feel to have him erupt in her mouth, how warm it would be, if it would taste the same.

When it finally happened she was sitting in front of him, watching his hand glide up and down with intense strokes, him pulling her head toward him, her mouth open, her tongue outstretched, and just before she closed her eyes she saw the first spurt flying toward her, then the heat of it on her tongue, the taste flooding her mouth, her throat automatically swallowing as it poured in. Oh god! She heard herself coughing, gagging, screaming, laughing, and then licking the sticky residue from the head of his seeping cock, then from the shaft and his balls.

But that romance ended when Natalie wouldn’t give in to his demands for intercourse.

I’m getting wet thinking of what you have planned for later, your big secret, she said softly to her husband as they were eating dinner. In fact, I’ve been wet since before we got here, and she wanted to touch herself, bring her wet fingers to his mouth right there, see his eyes as he tasted her nectar. But she’d never be so bold. Or so she thought.

He smiled, then smoothly changed the subject.

We have all night, so I booked a room in town for the night, not waiting for a reply. He knew she loved to have a night of luxury, with no worries about doing anything other than having a rare night of uninterrupted sex.

She wondered again what he would do with her, for her, to her. He was very imaginative, he always had been, which was only one of the reasons why she still loved him. He always found a way to make their sex exciting.

He was the first of her lovers who she felt understood her, at least enough to join her, certainly enough to enjoy it as much as she did. He got it.

In the suite he took her into his arms, kissed her, his tongue dancing with hers, making her nether lips tingle even more. Trust me?

Of course, but she was surprised at his question, and now she grew even more curious.

Good, and he pulled a black silk scarf from his jacket pocket, covered her eyes with it, pulled it around her dark hair, tied it tight enough so it would stay in place. She remembered the last time they’d had sex like this and he had recorded it for the internet and she was hoping they would do that again. It got her so wet! exhibitionism in women

Natalie knew immediately that something was different. At first it was that she felt the warmth, warmer than a fall evening warranted. Then she realized that there was a different smell, but of what? Nothing unpleasant, in fact it was very aromatic, and she began to feel, um, tingly, all over. She could feel her heartbeat increase, her breathing grow faster, more shallow. Something was very different.

What’s going on?, she asked.

You’re going to be undressed. Just stand still, and she felt the buttons of her dress being undone. The air was warm, but she could feel her nipples begin to stiffen.

She’d worn no bra, knowing it would excite her husband at dinner, and he heard him sigh with approval as her dress fell to the floor and he saw that she was wearing nothing but thigh highs now. Oh, no undies at all, what a naughty girl you are tonight. She felt her nipples harden more with the brush of fingertips. On your knees now. Oh, this was it, this was one of her fantasies, to be on her knees as she watched cum flying to her from a stroking fist.

Now undress me, and she complied, her fingers expertly working on his belt and then his trousers, pulling them down, pulling his shorts down, closing her fingers on his already hard erection.

Keep your hand on mine now, and she felt him begin to stroke, her hand following his motion.

I want to see it, you know how much I like to watch you do it.

Not yet, monkey, not yet.

His hand was moving faster now and she knew that if he didn’t stop soon he’d be spraying her naked body. Was this it? But as if reading her mind he slowed.

Wait, and he spread her legs open wider. You too, and understanding, she dropped a hand to her breast, rolling the tight nipple between thumb and forefinger until she was moaning softly. More, and her hand dropped to her belly, then to her mound, her fingers tracing the familiar path to her slit, finding the wetness there.

I’m dripping, I’m so wet! Her fingers were keeping pace with his stroking, her breasts were rising and falling with her now labored breathing. Please, I need to cum, I’ve been waiting all night.

She felt the first spurt hit her just below her mouth, took the next one on her tongue, and as she was relishing his taste she felt another splash on the back of her shoulder and she gasped. What? The blindfold was pulled away and Natalie gasped again.

There in front of her were several men, all naked, all erect, each one holding or fondling or stroking his cock. She looked around, the room was filled, or so it seemed; there were a dozen men. Then she realize that there were no women, she was alone with all these men, these naked erect men, all strangers, but all, oh god, all ready to cum, to cum for her!

Tears came into her eyes as she looked at her husband, who was still holding his dripping cock, a huge smile on his handsome face.

Happy anniversary, Natalie!

… but then …

• Highway pleasure
• Is this a dream

My first time.
By: denise (denisederoulet@gmail.com)

I’m relating this incident at the request of my boyfriend/fiancée, who insists it will pleasure people other than him, although I can’t imagine why.

He bets that people will read the story and request more. I’m not so sure. The bet is oral gratification for the winner. For me, that will mean a very fine dinner. If he wins, it will be something else entirely. I’m not sure if I’ll write more or not. I originally thought it would be this one story and no more. However, remembering the events I’m about to relate was certainly more enjoyable than I thought it would be. I only wish Kathy were here with me right now.

===================================================

I became an exhibitionist nearly 6 years ago by accident. At the time, I was a 19 year old college student, who also worked part time as a waitress in order to be able to afford college. Oh yes, I also participated in soccer.

I had attended an all girls high school where I was active in soccer and tennis.

I was good enough in soccer to obtain a partial scholarship to a decent college.

I hadn’t dated much in high school and really had no idea whether I was attractive to men or not. I wasn’t ugly or anything like that, but I certainly wasn’t Hollywood gorgeous either. At an athletic 5’4 and 115 lbs, 34B, 24, 35 (toned abs and a firm ass), I didn’t fit into a model/actress category and frankly I wasn’t worried about it. Things would happen if they were supposed to, no sense rushing.

Anyway, this day, I woke at 7:05AM, which is late for me. Somehow I had missed the alarm, which is also unusual. I looked out the window and could see the bus stopped across the park at the stop before mine.

I had less than two minutes if I didn’t want to miss it! I threw on a dress that was hanging on a hook, grabbed my shoes and book bag and ran, barefoot, down the stairs and out to the bus stop, just as it pulled up. I made it.

I boarded the bus, and found a seat toward the rear where I sat down and put on my shoes, which were actually more like summer sandals, since the restaurant where I worked didn’t permit sneakers. As I was fastening the ankle strap on the second sandal, I noticed a man sitting across from me watching me. I looked at him and he smiled. I smiled back and continued fastening my shoe. About then, I realized that in my haste to leave I had put on my dress and nothing else. I had no bra or panties. No wonder he was staring.

I couldn’t look at him again, knowing what he had seen. I sat there with my legs together and my book bag in my lap. I did glance at him and saw he was still looking at me. It was then I decided, why not give him a bit of a show?

I pulled my book bag off my lap and in the process of opening it and getting a book made sure my legs were spread just enough so he could catch a glimpse of my pussy, but nothing so blatant as to let him see it full on. As I put the book bag on the seat next to me, I made sure it caught the edge of my dress and caused it to raise just a little higher on my thighs. I rode like that the rest of the way to school. I noticed him squirming in his seat to reposition his pants, so I was pretty sure my show was having an effect on him.

As I stood to get off at my stop, I spread my legs a little wider, just to give him a pussy shot to remember. By this time my pussy was getting moist, but I had classes to attend so there would be no opportunity to deal with that for a while.

He stood up too. Damn, I hope he isn’t some sort of pervert preying on college girls. But at 7:35 AM, campus is pretty busy and I make sure there’s no opportunity for him to try anything. He followed me for a little while, but soon went in a different direction and I headed toward my first class.

My third class was a new one. Well, actually I hoped it would be a new one. I was petitioning to get into it, since it had been full when I tried to enroll. It’s now the second week of class so I had already missed one class and needed the instructor’s approval on an enrollment form in order to be admitted.

I entered the room and went to ask the professor if I could petition in. Oh shit, the professor is the man from the bus. Oh well, I had probably either already gotten myself into the class, or I didn’t stand a chance. I just have to wait and see. I hand him the paperwork and he says to sit down and he’ll review it. Since I thought he was going to review it right then, I took a seat in front of his desk. He placed the paper on his desk, stood up and called for class to begin. Was I in or not? Here I am again; seated right in front of him, with no real way not to let him see almost anything he wants. Just the thought of it and I start to get moist again.

Damn, this is going to be a long day if I’m unable to get some sort of relief.

Soon he has his back to the class, writing an assignment on the board, so I sneak my hand under the desk and start to gently massage my throbbing clit. Just as it starts to feel very pleasurable, he turns around. I’m caught. I quickly remove my finger, return my hand to the desktop and start writing. I can tell that in withdrawing my hand, I’ve left my dress up enough so virtually my entire pussy is on display for him. I attempt to move a little to see if the dress will move back down, but all I accomplish in the process is spreading my legs a little wider. Damn, why hadn’t I grabbed a pair of panties as I left the house?

He faces the class the rest of the lecture period. I do begin to notice a bulge in his crotch and he finally sits down at his desk so he can once again adjust his trousers. I’m really moist by now.

Class is finally over and as the rest of the class leaves he hands me the paperwork with his signature in the approved section and a handwritten note that this is my permanent seat assignment. I wonder if that means I’m expected to provide a pussy show each week? However, since this was fun, I’ll have to see how creative I can be.

I head to the restaurant to begin my shift. It’s a relatively quick walk from campus and I’m hoping to get there early enough so I can spend a few minutes in the ladies room relieving some of my sexual tension. My pussy is throbbing.

No such luck. I walk in and the assistant manager immediately asks me to take tables 6 and 11. It will be a while before I can satisfy my throbbing pussy.

Table six has a group of four guys and table 11 has a boy and a girl. All students. Of course that’s what we expect at a restaurant just off campus. I recognize a few of them from campus. I take their orders and return to the counter and place the order slips on the order pick list. I grab the drinks and head back to the tables. The four boys are staring at me as I return with their drinks. As I place the drinks on the table, one guy says nice ass and the others kind of laugh. I don’t say anything, but think that sort of comment is a little unusual for this restaurant. It’s not until I’m returning to the counter that I realize that as I placed the orders on the pick board, I had to raise my arm enough so that I exposed myself once again. Yes, he knows what kind of ass I have, from a first hand view. exhibitionism in the uk

About this time, the assistant manager comes back to me and asks if I’ll take the cash register.

Two more waitresses have arrived and they can handle the tables so she needs someone on the register. Normally I would not want to switch, since the tips are much better working tables, but since I’m not wanting to build a reputation as the campus slut, I eagerly accept her offer. Sorry guys, no more pussy show today. Reflecting on what they must have seen and their reaction to it isn’t helping to calm my throbbing pussy though. Will this day ever end so I can go home and masturbate myself to what will surely be an exciting and pleasurable climax?

I notice my professor come in for lunch. He gets a table by himself. Too bad I’m not on his table. It would be fun to see if I could excite him again.

I mean, it’s not like he hasn’t already seen my pussy in all it’s splendor. Just thinking about what I would do and I’m moist again. Since I’m sitting at the register, I make sure he gets another peek when he comes up to pay his check. It’s very rare for the cashier to receive a tip, but he leaves me five dollars. I give him a big smile and spread my legs just a bit wider in appreciation. As I glance at his crotch,I can tell I’m not the only one who would love to masturbate about now.

It’s slightly past two. Almost all the customers have finished and left. The assistant manager will handle the register now, so I start helping the others clean up. A middle aged couple comes in.

Are you still serving lunch? I glance at the assistant manager and she nods yes, serve them. I take them to a booth in the corner which has already been cleaned and ask, Is this OK? They both nod yes, and I tell them I’ll be right back with their menus. I can tell they’re not regulars and decide to have some fun. As I return with the menus and water, I place his in front of him but when I place hers in front of her, I bend over enough so I’m sure he is able to see at least as much as those guys did earlier. As I turn back to him, I can see he’s unsure of what’s happening and he glances down at his menu. I’ll be right back for your order. Would you like anything else to drink? They both order cokes.

I bring the drinks and give him the same show as I lean over to place her drink in front of her. Are you ready to order?’ They both order one of our College View Burgers. I take the order back to the counter. Sure enough, he’s watching me. I rise even higher than needed in order to pin this order.

When the orders are ready, I take them to the table. His wife has gone to the ladies room to freshen up, so I give him a special show. This time my full ass is exposed as I place her plate on the table. I stand next to him and ask if there will be anything else. He doesn’t say anything. I can tell he’s a little nervous. Very slowly, his hand rises up between my legs. I just stand there as if I’m waiting for his answer. Soon, his finger is embedded in my pussy. I stand there, and once again, moisture begins oozing from my womanhood. I give an involuntary squirm. Don’t stop, I think to myself. Please give me some satisfaction. By this time, I’m really squirming and I’m sure his hand is flooded with the juices from my throbbing pussy.

We both notice the door to the ladies room begin to open and he quickly pulls his finger out and removes his hand from under my dress and places it back on the table. Let me know if you need anything else, I say loudly enough for his wife to hear and return to cleaning up a nearby table, making sure that whenever my back is to him, he can see my ass and possibly even my thoroughly wet pussy lips. I can tell he’s unable to make himself comfortable at the booth. He keeps squirming and adjusting his pants. I’m sure his hand still smells of my womanly juices, but he doesn’t indicate anything. In fact, I notice him licking his fingers while he’s eating his burger.

His wife keeps looking at her watch.

She seems to be in a hurry and soon they’re ready to leave. Any desert, I ask and give him a big wink. I’d love some, but we really need to hurry. We’re in town visiting our daughter here at school and have a plane to catch. Next time we’re in town. We’ll be sure to stop back. Yes, next time please cum, I reply as I take their check. Wow, a ten dollar tip! Maybe I’ll forget my panties more often. I bet his cute little wife gets something special when they get back home. However, I still long for something, to appease my ever increasing need to obtain sexual satisfaction.

I finish at the restaurant and head to soccer practice. Maybe the physical exertions of the practice will sooth some of the sexual tension I’m experiencing.

It’s a hard practice. I’m exhausted. I return to the locker room and collapse on the bench. Kathy comes in, as exhausted as I am and sits beside me. We both rest for a few minutes and then undress and head to the shower.

Most of the other girls have finished, but I’m still in the shower. Just Kathy and I. I stand there with the shower spraying down on my clit and almost have an orgasm.

My hands slowly move to my pussy as if I’m washing myself. I begin rubbing my clit. Oh God, I need to come. I bend forward slightly and insert two fingers in my pussy and begin masturbating in earnest. Oh, it feels so good. All of a sudden I notice Kathy just staring at me. I quickly stop masturbating and pretend I’m just enthusiastically scrubbing my pubic area. She turns back to her shower and soon I notice her hand is moving rhythmically between her legs as well. I hear her issue a low moan and see her quiver slightly. Why not, I think to myself, this day has already been crazy. I walk quietly up behind her, reach around and grab her breasts. Startled, she jumps a little, but as I continue massaging the hard nipples on her very firm globes, she quickly returns to her self-stimulation. It’s not long before she quivers again, reaches up from her pussy, grabs my hands on her breasts and holds them there. We stand like that for a few moments and then she turns and faces me. Her mouth immediately finds mine and we begin kissing and rubbing against each other. Now her hand finds my private area and she quickly begins massaging my throbbing clit.

Finally, I think to myself, and I begin squirming and twisting myself to this glorious finger fuck. It’s just a few minutes until I moan an immense sigh of ecstatic relief. Oh my God, I say to myself. I give her a big tongue in mouth kiss and we both move away silently. Neither of us says anything as we finish dressing. See ya tomorrow she says as if nothing had happened. Yeah, I reply, Good practice. dares exhibitionism pics

Time to catch my bus home and study. My soccer uniform needs washing. Should I wear it home or just wear my dress and have some more fun? I’m tired and satisfied. I have to study. I put on my soccer uniform and go to catch the bus. I’ll save the dress for another time.

Denise

• Hallway by: pat
• Girlfriends day at the spa

Mr. Shaft
By: Janet1950

More from Abby’s diary, courtesy of Janet:

Mr. Shaft substituted for my Biology teacher, Mr. Kurtins, who had been given some time off from his job by the community college for, as rumor had it, being caught masturbating onto a female student’s face in the back seat of his car in the faculty parking lot. Well, from what I know, he’s a passionate man and I’m not surprised at all. And why the school thinks it can dictate morality to two adults is beyond me. So, anyway, we had a sub today.

Mr. Shaft introduced himself by writing his name on the blackboard and there were a few giggles when we saw that his first name was Harrison. He spoke at length about his background as a professional biologist with a cosmetics company and how he wanted to teach part-time just to have a change of pace. Admirable, I thought.

Our sub explained that Mr. Kurtins was out for a while, having an operation or something (yeah…right! ) and that he’d be with us for the next three weeks.

He asked us what we did on the first day of class and decided that his first session would be a lecture rather than hands on. Boring !

Beginning with a description of what biology as a word actually meant (I was yawning and didn’t hear what he said, but I’ll bet that it means life (bio) and study (ology), but whatever it is, I don’t think it matters. Mr. Shaft went on the how life began and in a really short time got us all the way to the Kingdoms that included mammal and so on. Then he started on reproduction and it kind of caught my attention–Lol !

Of course, it was very dry (the lecture, not my ***** !), and the hour dragged on forever until, finally, we were dismissed. I was getting my things together and, just as I started for the door behind the rest of my classmates, Mr.

Shaft called out my name. Surprised, I stopped and spun around to see him looking directly at me (so, I thought, he knew who I was by face and not just by name).

I walked over to him and smiled, asked what it was that he wanted and, when he looked over to make sure we were alone, he started talking. He told me that before Mr. Kurtins was sent on furlough, and not to a hospital as the class was told, he briefed Mr. Shaft about a few things. Okay, I figured, Mr. Kurtins told him about our encounter in the supply room on the first day of class, and I was sure that, now, the sub wanted to have some of me, too. While I considered just going straight in to the supply room and getting down on my knees, Mr. Shaft stunned me as he continued: He only said that he’d been told that I was a very bright, very helpful student and that he would do well to ask me to assist him when needed (for extra credit, I was assured).

That’s all. Nothing more. So he didn’t know anything. And that kind of pissed me off !

I asked Mr. Shaft what kind of help he had in mind and as I asked I leaned over in front of him to set my books and things down on the floor and, as I did so, I made sure that, if he looked down, he’d get a nice glimpse of my girls hanging free beneath my half-unbuttoned blouse. It wasn’t like I planned it, but my blouse is never buttoned up very high, and my 36 D’s aren’t all that visible when I’m standing up (because, alas, they belong to a fifty year-old lady, and they do tend to sag over the years). But leaning over as I did kind of made some room for a view; this I knew because I’d shown my pair before, lots of time before.

As I straightened up I heard Mr. Shaft stutter a bit as he spoke and that was, oh yes, because his eyes were glued to my you-know-whats.

He recovered quickly and went on to say that he needed some help in finishing the inventory that Mr. Kurtins had begun (with my help).

Now, if I hadn’t caught him looking at my chest, I’d probably have passed on it, tired as I was. But I decided to offer to help, and soon we were heading to that infamous supply room. But it was locked. No key. Oh well….

Mr. Shaft thanked me for the thought and said that we’d try next week if he could get a key from someone in the department. I cheerfully promised that I’d look forward to it and started to leave for a second time, but before I could I was once again called by name and, this time, Mr.

Shaft apologetically asked if, by chance, I was headed toward the east. I replied that I was, actually, and he confessed that he needed a ride, or would love one as opposed to waiting what would be an hour for the next suburban bus. I agreed, remarking about how, at bus-stops in the city, one never needs to wait more than ten minutes. His eyes lit up and he asked me if I, too, lived downtown, because he actually needed a ride all the way there but was unwilling to ask for such a favor. I laughed and asked him if he was going to let me just drop him off somewhere the direction of downtown and he sheepishly replied that he would’ve figured out a way to ask once we were on the road.

What a silly man, it’s 30 miles from here….I told him it was no problem.

We got into my car, a small two-seater from Japan and he slid into the very snug passenger’s side while I got behind the wheel. But before starting the car, I needed to have a key, and I told him that I’d probably packed in in my carry-all bag. Mr. Shaft made a joke of us having a bad key day while I turned around and leaned over between the seats to get to my bag. I unzipped it and started rummaging through it and, a little off-balance, I kind of slipped and went head-first into the small, cramped space behind the seats (big enough for stowing a few things but not much more).

I tried to get up but there I was, like a slapstick comedy fool, arms wedged against the seatbacks, my face pressed against my bag, my legs sticking up and pointing at the ceiling–and my skirt all the way down or up depending on the point of view !

Mr. Shaft offered immediate assistance but I begged him not to because my right arm was really stuck and I was afraid it’d break if we weren’t careful. So he just sat there while I slowly worked to free my arm. I was having a difficult time and managed to look back, over my left shoulder, as I assured him that I’d be okay, that it’d take just a few more minutes….

Well, of course, you can imagine what is aw when I looked back at him.

He was happy as a clam at high tide, as they say, just staring right at the special place between my thighs. How could he miss it, anyhow? I couldn’t keep my legs together and the skirt was more like a belt or sash now ! So who could blame him for noticing my exposure?

That’s when the naughty Abby started stirring within me. I decided to make my ordeal last a while longer, and when I told him it would take longer for me to get my arm free he responded with a very agreeable sure, no problem, take it slow and easy. And that’s what I did. And, wow, did I start getting wet !

Defying gravity, I had the crotch panel of my panty soaking wet within seconds. That’s how much I was lubricating ! I felt my nipples hardening– and my anus puckering as well, which was really kind of different for me, unless it’s showing or being tickled, I mean.

Mr.

Shaft asked me if he could somehow help me get un-stuck and that’s when I decided to get some touchy-feely action underway. I asked him to reach under me and try to lift me upwards, with the result being that his arms were around me and his hands were pressed right on my boobs. He knew that I could feel it and he nervously apologized for how he was touching me, but I shocked him by replying that it felt nice and that after all, couldn’t he feel how hard my nipples were?

Mr. Shaft squeezed both breasts, blatantly letting his hands announce that he’d no longer ignore his attraction. He slipped one arm out from under me and the next thing I knew, he had his fingers up underneath my panty and was sliding three of them into my vagina while his thumb pushed against my anus. Between puckers, his thumb slid into my anus and now, still in that more-than-awkward position, I was being double-penetrated by a man named Harry Shaft! (I’d have laughed if my face wasn’t smooshed against the tote-bag.)

I moaned and groaned as Mr. Shaft double-frigged me.

Suddenly, his hand was gone and he buried his face between my legs, licking and sucking the narrow strip of panty material that ran between my labia. Soon he had my panty pulled and stretched to one side so his lips and tongue could make direct contact with all of my treasures, and he took turns tonguing and licking my p***y and probing and slurping between my buns.

I wished right then that I really could get my arms and hands free so I could reach out and grab hold of his penis. It had to be hard and I wanted to know, wanted to feel how rigid I’ d made it become. But, unfortunately, I was still stuck. Mr. Shaft continued his feverish lapping and sucking and slurping, and soon I was trembling all over, the muscles of my thighs and belly were spasming, and I felt my toes splaying wide apart as Mr. Shaft brought me to the brink.

I let out a loud shriek as my orgasm spewed upwards, so powerfully that later I’d see that the ceiling was splattered with my juices, which also splashed back downwards onto the steering wheel and even onto the dashboard ! He continued to slurp up my juices as he stuffed his index and middle fingers into my rear end as he did so.

I was not going to get away with being the only one to have an orgasm. A moment later, Mr.Shaft was up on the driver’s seat, on his knees, facing the back of the car. He grabbed hold of my legs and pulled them to the right and somehow managed to plunge his penis into my ass. I was twisted and contorted like a Twister player and it hurt, but Mr. Shaft’s reaming covered the pain up in a matter of seconds. I could feel the pubic hair at the base of his penis, thick and curly and soft, and from that I could tell that his erection must’ve been about six inches long.

But how thick it was (not that six inches isn’t wonderful! Lol !) Believe me: When I write that he was reaming me with it, I mean it ! I’d never in all my life felt such a beer-bottle thick penis sliding so tightly in and out of my bottom !

Even though I wouldn’t be having another orgasm, at least not right away, I was in heaven. I started repeating, over and over and over in a soft, whimpery voice Ream it. Ream it good. Ream it.
dares and exhibitionism
In response to my begging, Mr.

Shaft started really going to town on my poor fanny ! He plunged and thrusted and rammed his hard pole up my ass so hard and so fast that I nearly fainted ! Thank goodness that finally, after what had to be twenty minutes of furious, unrelenting sodomizing, my passion-driven teacher grunted out that he was going to blow his wad into my arse and, as he did, my entire body became so limp and loose that, amazingly, my arm came free!

Mr. Shaft pulled out his, well..his shaft…and it was a breeze for him to pull me up and back from the space behind the seats. I turned and settled down into the driver’s seat and took a few minutes to catch my breath as he resumed sitting next to me, acting almost as if nothing had just happened. exhibitionism in the office

I started up the car, and that was easy, too, because all along the stupid key was in the ignition. I laughed at how careless I was; my car could’ve been stolen while I was in class.

I wiped the dashboard and steering wheel off with some tissues and drove off.

We were quiet, Mr. Shaft and I, and it helped when he turned on the stereo. Soon we were entering downtown and a few minutes later we parted with a smile and a wave as he entered his building.

Once home, I took a bottle of window cleaner and went back to my car to finish cleaning it up. I brought a whole roll of paper towels with me because there was also a huge puddle of Mr. Shaft’s semen that had leaked out of me and onto the driver’s seat. I finished with the dashboard and wheel and looked at the pool of sperm while I picked at the back of my sticky, sticky panty. Hmmmm…what to do?

I tossed the bottle and towels onto the parking lot floor and got down on my knees, leaned forward and lapped up every precious drop of Mr. Shaft’s gooey spendings. Lots of it. And warm, not from being fresh, but from the warmth of my buttocks. The seat clean, I smeared onto my lips the semen that had gotten on my face while I was tidying up and I took the cleaning supplies back to my flat.

My back ached, and so did just about every part of me after that hour of contortion. I ate a few aspirin and laid myself down on the couch, which I regretted doing before getting off my panty and showering. At least the couch is leather…gotta go and clean it up.

• Glamour photo shots
• Friendly neighbors

Mr. Peepers
By: Janet1950

A continuation of Abby’s diary….

Except for a few who stopped to gawk at the paramedics wheeling out the body of my late Photography instructor, Mr. Wyndows, the in-between class rush turned quiet, empty hallways into bustling conduits filled with students headed this way and that as they raced to their next classes. I was lucky in that my next class, the Art of Gardening, would be meeting just down the hall instead of down some far-off wing of the community college I was attending (I actually will be attending the bird watching class next semester). But anyway, I certainly hoped that there’d be less drama than in my previous class, where poor Mr.

Wyndows keeled over dead as a result of a little too much excitement (compliments of little old me!)

I walked into the classroom and took a desk up-front and to the right, along a window. A minute later, the instructor stepped in and closed the door behind him. He began calling off the names of students who were registered for the course–only six and one was missing. With a class-size so very small, I was surprised they didn’t cancel it. Frankly, I was quite pleased because there’d be less of us competing for the instructor’s time and guidance.

The instructor’s name was Mr. Peepers. Retired from running the greenhouse he’d owned for forty years, he asked if any of us had ever heard of a 1950′s TV program featuring a character who also had Peepers as a surname.

None of us recalled it and our instructor seemed a bit let down but, hey, we were babies back then, or not even born yet! That must’ve made him close to seventy, maybe older, if he remembered watching some show from back then, but he didn’t look that old to me.

The five of us were given a photocopied handout to read, about thirty pages, and that was all he asked of us for the first class ! Amazing. He could’ve called it homework so we’d accomplish something other than just reading for an hour. Oh well, the class was cheap…what did I expect? And maybe he just wanted to give us something to do so he could do some kind of inventory he mentioned.

While we read about gardening tools, soil types, fertilizer, etc., Mr. Peepers stepped away into an adjoining closet/storage room where, as I could see through the doorway, he kept dozens of small pots, containers of seeds and all kinds of supplies for our gardening class. Standing on a small ladder (that was positioned so the door couldn’t close all the way), Mr. Peepers was reaching up to a high shelf for something or other when I heard a crashing sound and saw him fall onto the floor. The ladder was about eight feet high, and he was lucky to be unhurt. But just to make sure he was okay, I got up and helped him get to his feet. He assured all of us that he was fine and the others went back to reading but, before I could retake my seat, Mr. Peepers asked me if I’d keep the ladder steady for him so he could get back to doing an inventory of our gardening supplies. It’d take about forty-five minutes, and he joked that I’d get extra credit for assisting him and that I could read the handout at home.

I placed my foot on a lower rung of the ladder and tightly gripped one side with my hand, taking care to avoid having it stepped on. I stood there, kind of bored, looking out the window at what was really a very lovely day. Off in the distance I could see the county hospital complex, an ambulance pulling into the non-emergency entrance–maybe Mr. Wyndows was the passenger–but he’d be there already, I figured….must be someone else….

I was snapped out of my gazing when Mr. Peepers nearly toppled off the ladder again. Nothing fell or broke, but he himself certainly came close to it. The problem was that he was only about five feet tall and, with short little arms, he was having trouble reaching some glass containers stacked in the back of an upper shelf. Before he could resume, I suggested that I’d be better able to reach whatever needed counting.

Not wanting to embarrass him, I didn’t mention the six inches in height I had on him; instead, I joked about my arms being orangutan long, and that was what made it easier for him to take me up on my offer without having his feelings hurt.

Mr. Peepers stepped off the ladder and, after adjusting its position in such a way that the door was able to close, he held my elbow, helping me as I mounted the thing. I was careful and took it slowly until I finally reached the top platform where all the stuff on the topmost shelf was easily within reach. He said that I’d do the counting and that he’d jot down the quantities in his notebook. After dealing with a few items, I realized that I’d missed several dozen fertilizer sticks and, as I informed him, I turned a bit to look down at him– and as I did so I thought I caught him looking up my skirt ! Couldn’t be sure if he was looking at me or above me, but I could swear….

I quickly turned away to face the shelf again, and after he acknowledged the correction I gave him, I started on some other things (although I was having a very hard time concentrating, wondering if he was peeking up at me.) I grabbed one of about fifty small, rectangular plates made of polished black plastic: I’d ask him what they were for and I’d hold it up to show him–so that I could see his reflection in it… to see if he was looking up my skirt. But it didn’t work: I could see his face in the mirror-finish, but I still couldn’t tell exactly where he was directing his upward gaze. And he didn’t have a clue what those plates were for, either.

I became obsessed with determining if he was looking up my skirt, up at the narrow strip of cotton that covered my private area at their intersection. My focus on what I was doing was fading away, and nearly every total I gave him for one item or another had to be corrected two or three times. After giving him an adjusted number for a quantity of tiny bags of peat moss, I knew that my mind was running away with the whole thing, like it or not.

What I mean is that I realized that my panty was soaking wet ! And I mean saturated, because I felt two little streams of wetness tickling the insides of my thighs after dripping off my labia. And then I became aware that both of my pussy’s lips were hanging over the crotch panel of my panty (as they had been since I left my previous class; I didn’t have time to tidy up between classes). Oh my God! I was giving Mr. Peepers such a view ! My juices dripping and my glistening wet labia showing ! And no sign of the lubrication letting up !

There’s always, it seems, a turning point, an emotional change, when I find a man checking out my special treasures, and that point arrived. I re-positioned my feet as wide apart as possible to give a wider view of my snatch and I reached down with my right hand and, through my skirt, I grabbed hold of the waistband of my panty. Carefully and unnoticed by Mr. Peepers, I yanked up on my panty, pulling it high and tight between my legs.

I was sure that my pussy lips, which had always hung like flaps of soft, pink skin nearly an inch below my vagina, were now totally hanging over what had become a narrow strip of cotton running between them. If that strip of material was normally an inch-and-a-half wide (covering me adequately), yanking it upwards had made it into little more than a thick string (covering next to nothing as it rubbed against the wet entrance to my honey hole).

Finished with the shelf in front of me, instead of getting down so we could move the ladder, I turned to my left and leaned over to count things on another shelf. Then I decided to step down one rung, my right leg only, while keeping my left leg up higher. That way, I hoped, my skirt would ride up a little more and I’d show my instructor a little more of my rear end. dare and exhibitionism

A minute later, I was able to confirm that I had, indeed, an adoring audience. I turned and looked down as I handed Mr.

Peepers some loose seeds I had found, and this time I caught him off-guard, staring directly up at my butt (and much, much more !) He recovered his composure but not well enough to hide an unbelievably huge bulge in his trousers ! Five feet tall he might have been, but he had what looked like a big, thick cucumber pressing outward so hard it looked like it would burst out any second ! That’s when I took it all to a higher, more outrageous level. Yeah, Abby’s was back at it again ! LOL !

I turned away as if to resume my counting effort, but–and he must have nearly fainted!–I reached down with both hands and lifted my skirt up to my waist and held it up and in front of my belly. I didn’t look down. I just stayed that way, swaying my buns gently from side to side. I felt the ladder move a bit. It was Mr. Peepers stepping up onto it and a moment later I felt his face up between my legs, his tongue licking feverishly at the moisture that continued to stream down my thighs.

He groaned and grunted as he licked my thighs clean, and without pausing he began licking and nibbling and sucking at my pussy lips. Switching back and forth from one to the other, he slurped up the juice that flowed onto them from deep within my hole. Seconds later, wanting to drink from the source of my warm, flavorful nectar, Mr. Peepers stopped just long enough to pull my panty downwards, tearing it and nearly ripping it off so that for a few seconds it hung above my left knee before sliding down and around my ankle. He thrust his face so that his nose was pushed against my asshole while his lips were pressed tightly around my puss-puss hole. With his kissing, licking, tonguing, and sucking, if it hadn’t continued to leak, my pussy would have been dry from quenching his thirst !

Mr. Peepers wasn’t the best at eating a gal’s pussy to make her cum, so I helped him out by using the fingers of my free hand to reach down and titillate my clitoris, and that did the trick.

A minute later I nearly fell of the ladder from the way my legs were shaking as my muscle spasms announced the coming of my orgasm. He kept up his vigorous licking and sucking while, unknown to him, I kept on with wiggling and tickling my clit. Then came my orgasm, accompanied by still more of my fragrant and delicious pussy water, spraying onto his face so furiously that he stepped down and away, stunned by how I’d soaked his face. I turned and looked down at him as he used his shirt sleeve to wipe his cheeks and chin and forehead. I descended from the ladder and put my arms around him, licking at his face until it was clean. Pleased that it tasted so good and that it smelled like something one could call Eau de Pusse (pungently musky, yet smooth and with a hint of sweetness–LOL!), I decided to hurry up and do something nice for him, something to show my appreciation for the way he worked so hard while eating me. exhibitionism in the movies

I dropped to my knees and unzipped his fly. Reaching into his shorts, my eyes bulged in disbelief as I pulled out an eight-inch cock as big around as a beer can ! Even bigger than it looked through his pants ! I let out a soft squeal of surprise combined with delight and started tickling the underside of the bulbous penis head that stuck out of his foreskin. Not ten seconds later, Mr. Peepers let out a gasp and, the next thing I knew, he was spattering my face with a load of cum that one might expect from a cock the size of his. Gooey and perfectly white, the gobs of his creamy spunk splattered onto my face, even as I tried to catch as much as I could with my tongue. (Now I remember what it reminded me of: Elmer’s Glu-all, that thick white paste that we used back in elementary school. Yes, that’s how thick and how white it was as I saw it spurting forth out of the slit at the tip of his cock ! )

A minute later, looking as calm and normal as he could, Mr. Peepers stepped out of the storage room and, with perfect timing, bid adieu to the class, as it was quitting time for the day’s session.

I myself came out a moment later and went to my desk to collect my things. As I made for the desk, another student, a gal about my age, stopped as she walked past me on her way out. She smiled and winked and continued on her way. She must’ve guessed; we were in there so long. Or maybe she heard us. Maybe they all heard us….

Last to leave, I turned and looked back to say goodbye to my stud of a gardening teacher. He was looking at me, smiling, and as I returned the smile, he pointed to his face once and then twice before I realized that he was indicating that I should do the same. I brought my index and middle fingers to my face and felt my nose and forehead and cheeks before trying my chin.

My chin–that was what caused the lady to wink: I had a big, thick gob of Mr. Peeper’s creamy jism dangling from my chin ! It must’ve been just hanging there, without dripping off.

I mouthed a silent oops! and then used my fingers to smear Mr. Peeper’s delicious sperm up to my lips and mouth, so I could lick it up– like a good girl should ! Mmmmm, so, so good….

Happy and satisfied, I left the classroom thinking of what class I might be able to take to replace the one that would be cancelled due to Mr. Wyndow’s recent demise….

• Glad to be back
• First time public masturbation

Mr. Kurtins
By: Janet1950
danielle staub’s exhibitionism

Third entry in Abby’s diary, which clearly has become nothing more than a journal recounting her sluttish experiences at the community college….

My instructor, Mr. Wyndows, having passed away, the photography class he was to host was cancelled and I had to find another course that had an opening for an additional student. There were quite a few, actually, and I was attracted to two in particular.

First, there was an intro Biology course (I liked biology back in high school); second, there was an intro to self-defense, a co-ed course limited (as the name implied) to beginners. So, with the courses at the college being cheap as dirt, I opted to attend both, with Biology on Wednesday afternoon and the self-defense course on Friday, last session of the day.

My Biology instructor was Mr. Kurtins and he announced, right off the bat, that he was legally blind. Of course, all sixteen of us looked at one another, wondering how on earth he could teach a class that would rely on vision more than anything else, but Mr. Kurtins quickly clarified what it meant to be blind in a legal sense. He could see, he assured us, but only at things up close, within a foot or two. And that was with a pair of spectacles that had lenses as thick as the bottoms of shot glasses.

Anyway, he told us to go easy on him if he tended to stand uncomfortably close to us when having a conversation; he hated to talk to a blur, was how he put it.

Mr. Kurtins did a roll call and tried, probably out of instinct, to see who it was responding to each name he called out. He squinted, but I was sure from what he’d said earlier, that it was no use. When my name was called and I answered it was a bit easier for him to see me, as I was, as usual, seated in the front row (and to the left, near the door). He even moved a bit towards me and when he got within a few feet he seemed to get a better-than-a-blur image of me and he smiled.

Instead of wasting time like other instructors seem to do on the first day of class, Mr. Kurtins said we’d get started right away and he had us fetch our own microscopes off a table in the back of the classroom.

We were also instructed to take a carton of prepared slides to examine. I grabbed the very last set of slides; the labels on them indicated we’d be viewing subjects like bits of leaves, droplets of swamp water, all kinds of things. When we all got back to our desks, we were told to locate the swamp water slide and, after placing it securely under the clips attached to the viewing platform, we turned on the small light that would illuminate the subject from below. We were to count the number of different objects and organisms we saw and then move on to the next slide, which was a blood sample from a frog.

Everyone got started and so did I, at least for a few seconds, because the battery powering the tiny lamp on my microscope must have gone dead. exhibitionism in public stories

I called out to the instructor and waved (as if that would help!), and finally he figured out what direction my voice was coming from. He moved carefully around the desk that faced the class and, after I described the problem, he went away and returned a few minutes later with both a new battery as well as a replacement lamp. I assumed that I’d be the one to swap out the battery and/or the lamp, but Mr.

Kurtins insisted on doing it and he stood to my right and leaned down, so low that his chin bumped my shoulder. I giggled in response to his oops and watched him fiddle with the microscope. Seconds later he had the lamp shining brightly–on and off. Something was loose, he said, and he managed to get it steadily lit a few minutes later. He made a little joke about how he could see quite well –if looking through a microscope– and then he offered to adjust the slide that I had thought was already in place correctly. Once satisfied with his adjustment, he told me to take a look.

I tried to keep both eyes open but it was a tough thing to do, so with one eye closed and the other pressed against the eyepiece, I got a micro-view of all kinds of the crap that occupys a drop of sewage water, as he called it. He asked me to describe the things I could see, and as I looked and recited them all for him, I felt how close he was to me as he leaned down alongside me (as if waiting for his turn to look).

I turned to Mr. Kurtins to ask about one particular thing that was more plentiful than anything else on the slide and, as I did so, I thought that, with squinting eyes, he was trying to focus on something else that was plentiful: My pair of 36 D’s !

After all, Mr. Kurtins had his head down so close, just a foot or so away from my chest, and the light yellow sleeveless blouse I had on was, well, very low-cut in front. Let’s just say that, since I was bra-less, it showed LOTS of cleavage. In fact, it was so revealing that I supposed that, depending on how close and from what angle, someone could see all the way down to the pinkish-brown areolas surrounding my nipples.

Nonsense, I thought to myself.

He’s almost totally blind and, like anyone with that challenge, he probably very often appeared to look or stare at things or at people without realizing it. I recalled, too, that he warned us of how his being close might seem a bit uncomfortable, especially for people who were used to having a large personal space.

Mr. Kurtins answered my question about the now-dead organisms that once teemed in the swamp water, and he directed me to continue counting/identifying other items. As I did so, I have to admit that I became more and more aware that his face was aimed downwards at, or towards, my boobs….

The idea of a man having a look down my blouse, while in the midst of a full classroom, kind of crept into my mind, and I found it hard to focus on the slide. I also felt, whether I liked it or not, that my nipples were growing super hard ! I glanced down at my breasts and saw that both nipples were pressing–no, they were poking–against the thin cotton material that covered them. Frankly, my nipples are large–the nibs, I mean.

One man I dated even described them as the size of ‘Jujubes’, which are gumdrops that they sell by the box at movie theaters (along with Raisinettes and all that other stuff that removes dental fillings!)

So then, if Mr. Kurtins was able to, he was getting a really nice close-up of my breasts as well as my hard little nipples. LOL ! Hard, yes. Little? Not !

I wanted to know if he really was peeking down my blouse and checking out the points at the ends of my tits. Here we go again, I thought to myself. The inner Abby is back in business ! She’s the one who always likes to show-off her bodily treasures to her adoring public, wherever and whenever…and always wants to know if she’s being peeked at.

But how to be sure? I quickly thought about how I could be certain about my instructor’s gaze, but before I could devise a plan, Mr. Kurtins did something that made that totally unnecessary.

He muttered something about putting in the next slide and, after taking the old one from me, he positioned it for viewing. But instead of taking his hand away, he moved it to my breast and, with his thumb and index finger, he took hold of my right nipple and gave it such a squeeze ! And a twist ! And then a good, hard tug !

Fortunately, for the sake of decency, his standing at my right and with no neighbors to my left, nobody could see as Mr. Kurtins kept a tight grip on my poor nipple ! Another firm pinch and then another twist. Then another tug that stretched my nib away from my boob.

Then, OMG!– he pulled up on the nipple, lifting my entire right boob quite a way up as he did so!

I sat there, wetting my panty, soaking it with the juices that were flowing like crazy out of my pussy and dripping down the sides of my labia before reaching the strip of cotton between my thighs. I tingled all over: Between my thighs, between my buns, all over, and I didn’t know what to do. But, once again, Mr. Kurtins came to the rescue. Speaking in a voice loud enough for the other students to hear, he stated that my slides were defective and that we’d have to put together another set. If I’d help, he said, it’d be just five or ten minutes.

He gently took hold of my shoulder and I got up out of my desk and followed him into the supply room at the back of the classroom. No notice was paid to us going in there because of what he’d announced, and a few seconds later the door closed shut behind us.

The next thing I knew, Mr. Kurtins had me up against a wall with his face buried between my breasts. He licked and sucked feverishly at my pale white tits that contrasted so much with my summertime tan. He pulled at and then yanked my blouse up– and out flopped my girls.

Sucking and licking and biting at them, I could see them turning bright pink and, in some places, brownish marks were appearing where his sucking and biting was most furious. My thigh muscles began twitching as he continued roughing up my helpless boobs and, also because I wanted to, I dropped to the floor on my knees when I felt him push downward on my shoulders.

I frantically struggled to open his fly but it was Mr. Kurtins who managed to unzip his pants and pull out his cock. Six inches long and so, so thick ! Bigger around than the lenses of his spectacles, for sure ! I lunged forward to take his swollen cock into my mouth, but my instructor had another idea. He took hold of my hair and, firmly but not painfully, he raised me up a bit so that my breasts were opposite his penis, which was standing straight out at me. So proud, so powerful….so erect !

Mr.

Kurtins took hold of his prick and started to jack it off. He was jerking as fast as he could, and it was just a blur to me, as if I were the one with a vision deficiency ! I wanted to lower myself so that I could catch his spendings in my mouth or on my tongue when the time came, but he held me still with his free hand and I stayed put. His breathing and jerking grew more rapid and a moment later I saw the thickest white stream of cum that I’d ever witnessed come spurting out onto my breasts. Then another stream of gooey, white spunk. And another. And another. By the time he was smearing the last drops of jism onto my nipples, my breasts were as soaked with his cream as my panty was soaked with my cunt juice !

I was motionless, staring down at my sperm-soaked tits, as if in a daze.

But Mr. Kurtins snapped me out of it when he took hold of the underside (the only dry side) of my left boob and brought it up to my face. I knew what he wanted and I started licking his cum off like a woman dying of thirst ! Finished with one breast, I didn’t need him to shove the other in my face. I grabbed my right boob and cleaned it thoroughly before sucking the last gobs of semen off my fingers.

I looked up at my instructor as he zipped up his pants. He turned away and said that we’d just take the slides I already had since, of course, there wasn’t anything wrong with them. I followed Mr. Kurtins out of the supply room. and as he made his way to the front of the class, bumping into desks as he went, I headed to my desk where I sat for the remainder of the session.

By the way, Mr. Kurtins didn’t notice that I’d taken a few clean, blank slides with me when we left the supply room.

I took them because I wanted to dab onto it the small puddle of his cum that I saved in my mouth. Sure, it might be somewhat contaminated by my saliva, but I’d always wanted to see those little sperms swimming around and it was a great opportunity for trying to do it. I smeared some of his cum onto the slide and covered it with another thin plate of glass. In place, I peered through the microscope at it. Yep, there they were. Wriggling all through the gob of semen was Mr. Kurtin’s swimming-team of sperm.

The session ended, and as I walked down the hallway I wondered if there was a chance I could get extra credit for my little project. I’d have to ask Mr. Kurtins next time…

• Girls on top – part 1
• First night out

Mr. Leg-lock Larry
By: Janet1950

Abby’s diary continues as she recounts her first day in a self-defense class at community college….

Seven students, and all of us were female. I was the oldest, being in my mid-fifties and the rest, well, they were young but, if you ask me (and allow me to be anything but PC) so darned ugly that they’d better have signed up to defend against muggers– because they sure as hell weren’t going to have to worry about sex fiends !

[Forgive me, please. I'm sure that such fiends don't really care how attractive a gal is, but I've been in a catty mood all day].

Anyway, our instructor, Mr. Hands, was a former tag-team wrestler, whatever that means, and he once went by the name of Leg-lock Larry LaVoyeur. He said he’d picked that for a stage name because he’d leap into the ring and leer at women in the audience; he somehow thought that leering at women and peeping through windows was the same thing. Simply put, I guess he was kind of a dumbass, but I figured that a high IQ wasn’t necessary when it comes to fending off attacks by weirdos and crackheads.

Larry, as he insisted we call him, had other credentials, and he rattled off his having been a US Marine, a police officer in Detroit, and a grappler of the Gracie school of fighting. None of us knew what that last part meant, but he basically said that he was an expert at getting an assailant down on the ground and keeping him (or her-lol!) there. So he grappled –as opposed to boxing or chopping or kicking (?)–as for Gracie, he didn’t say if that was a woman or what….

We were directed to go to a rolling thing, like a luggage cart from a hotel, and select from fifteen or twenty pairs of tops and bottoms that looked like those loose-fitting clothes that karate people wear. They were all clean and pressed, he assured us, and he said they were supposed to be loose-fitting to allow movement of arms and legs, etc.

Larry let us change in the classroom while he took a hike for ten minutes, and when he returned we were all suited up, as they say, in our all-white uniforms. I have to mention that some of the girls stupidly wore their jeans and blouses underneath, defeating the whole purpose! Me, I just stripped down to my thong panty and nothing more, catching a few funny looks from one of the more modest students.

Hell, I thought, we were all female, after all. Or at least I looked like one compared to them ! Lol ! Maybe they were just uncomfortable about stripping after seeing my 36 D’s, considering that it didn’t look like any of them could fill an A-cup !

We all helped Larry move desks so we could unroll a large, very heavy mat, and after we did so he basically had us practice raising up our legs (for kicking) and doing all kinds of other things to loosen up our muscles. To our credit, we all tried hard to imitate his movements and soon we were sweating like we were in an aerobics class !

Time flew. The session was over so fast ! We were told to bring our self-defense clothes home with us and we could change in the ladies lavatory down the hall unless we wanted to look tough for other students to see, as Larry suggested with a laugh.

I was last to leave but, since I didn’t have anything better to do, I spun around and decided to go back into the classroom and ask some questions about women being able to defend themselves against knives and things. Pleased to hear that one of his students had an interest in talking about self-defense instead of just buzzing straight out and away after class, Larry sat on the edge of the desk at the front of the classroom and started telling me about how a woman of any size, with the right training and attitude, could overcome any attacker–just as well as a man could. I laughed, but he got serious and asked me if I’d like to learn, really quick, a few techniques that might surprise me. Although I was a bit nervous, I accepted and he led me to the center of the mat.

Larry had me assume a defensive stance and he assumed a threatening pose. He told me what to do and, well, it was like we did it in slow motion, but I could see what he meant by how a small person could block the fist of a larger person. He also showed me how to quickly pivot to avoid being grabbed or tackled by an assailant.

It was pretty cool, I must say, but what works in the classroom probably wouldn’t in the real world, where a crazed person might be leaping out at me as I walk past an alley, or something like that. Larry admitted that it would be different but he wanted to show me more, and soon he was teaching me how to take down an enemy. Unfortunately for me, and I still ache like hell right now as I sit on my bed, Larry was trying to teach me how to trip him and make him fall, and when I tried I ended up flopping across the mat myself, face-down and pretty much out cold. He hurried to me and turned me over.

I guess I was half-conscious and didn’t realize that my top had come undone. The narrow cloth belt had come untied and the top had opened wide, letting my boobs spill out, so to speak. I really think that Larry was most interested in determining if I was hurt, as in concussion of the head, because he didn’t do anything about my chest being exposed.

He lifted my head up a little and was talking to me, asking questions, I think, as he held up his fingers in front of my face. Probably he was asking me to count them, but his fingers were a blur, and his words were hard to understand. I remember saying that I was okay, and then I guess I passed out….
exhibitionism in public sex
It might have been minutes or hours, but when I came to I didn’t know where I was. I sensed that the room I was in was dark and I felt an odd feeling, too: Larry was above me, and he was squeezing my right breast while sucking the nipple of my left one, and I could vaguely hear the slurping and sucking sounds he was making.

His handling and kneading and sucking made my nipples hard and tingly and, a moment later, I felt his hand slide down the bottom of my karate pants. His fingers crept beneath my thong and slid into my vagina, where he wiggled and turned them, and I think he made his fingers curved so that they tickled me deep inside. Then, when he straightened out his fingers and started sliding them in and out of me, I could hear the squish-squish sound that they made because of how wet I had become.

I was still in quite a daze and didn’t even try to move, but my eyes were able to focus a bit better, and I could see the wall and then the door to the classroom, which was closed shut. Through the door’s narrow, rectangular window, I could see out into what seemed to be a dark hallway.

I didn’t realize at the time that, since the class was an end-of-day session, the odds were that since Larry apparently had shut off the lights and closed the door, well, there wouldn’t be anyone seeing or walking in on us.

Larry continued to finger me while using his thumb to rub and gently press against my clitoris. He kept up his vigorous nibbling and sucking and licking at my nipples, and I just lay there, the daze I was in from my fall had turned into a daze induced from the way Larry was ravaging my body. I closed my eyes and felt the rubbing, the sucking, the frigging, the tickling, the squeezing of my breasts, the pinching and twisting of my nipples. I felt my anus puckering and my vaginal muscles clenching, and I could feel how soaking wet my thighs were from all the lubricating juices that were dripping out of me.

I could look down and see Larry’s head and his mouth pressed open around my nipple. I could see his hand and how it pulled at and stretched my breast. I could see his how his arm was moving as he frigged me with two, maybe three, of his long, thick fingers.

And I could hear his soft groaning along with the noise of him sucking and fingering me. And then I heard my own moaning and panting, and then all the sounds melted together and I began to feel faint again….

I didn’t black out, and maybe my renewed light-headedness was due more to what Larry was doing than it was to the lingering effects from the earlier accident. cure for exhibitionism

Suddenly, I seemed to feel much less woozy and that, I soon figured out, was due to Larry having stopped his sucking and fingering. I felt that I could focus my eyes a bit better and, seconds later, I looked up and saw that Larry was straddling my face, gazing down at me from above, smiling.

I reached up with both hands and, clumsily, I managed to pull down his pants. After more struggling, I grabbed his hard, fat penis out of the briefs he had on underneath and opened wide as he lowered his erection into my welcoming mouth.

I sucked only the head at first, but soon Larry forced his shaft, inch by inch, deeper and deeper through my lips, not stopping until I felt the tip poking against the back of my throat. I gagged but didn’t try to squirm or turn my head away, and I surrendered to him, saliva dripping from the corners of my mouth and down to my chin as he had sex with my face.

Larry controlled his orgasm, and must’ve been making love to my mouth for ffiteen minutes when he reached back and started gently pinching at my clit. The way he was doing that with his index and middle fingers–it drove me absolutely crazy ! I responded by applying as much suction to the sides of his shaft as I could while he enjoyed using my mouth as a pussy.

I felt my belly lifting up, my legs trembling, my toes splaying….

Moments later, even as his orgasm of hot, creamy sperm erupted, flooding into my mouth, Larry kept up his manipulation of my clit, and before he finished filling my mouth, I was reaching climax, too.

My vagina began making sputtering noises as my orgasm sprayed out, and my buttock muscles spasmed so intensely that I couldn’t help it when my farts began accompanying the endless series of queefs that emanated from deep inside me.

Covered in sweat, our orgasms finished, Larry let go of my tender and oh-so-sore clitoris and he watched me show him the mouthful of semen that I’d kept myself from swallowing. Once he’d seen into my mouth, so full of his cream, I closed my lips and started swirling it around, savoring the texture and it’s slightly bitter (yet delicious!) flavor before gulping it down. My tongue swabbed at what remained on the inside of my cheeks and I made sure to lick up even the tiniest amount of the sticky sperm that coated my lips and chin and cheeks. Oooh, so yummy….

[I have no guilt, no regrets. I loved every minute of our encounter, and I had no bad feelings toward him because he never held me down or forced anything. He just took advantage of my condition the same way so many guys do with a gal who's drunk or whatever.

And I never said no, nor did I ever give him the slightest hint that I wanted him to stop.]

Larry helped me up and we changed back to our street clothes. He walked me out to the parking lot, and we parted ways.

Well, all that’s left to write is that I can’t wait until next week, cuz I want to find out what the Leg-lock part of his wrestling name meant….

• Daisy lost her dukes part ii
• Mindy exposed by: j k

Movie Thrill
By: PurpleMistress (chevypurple@yahoo.com)

My phone chimed letting me know I had a text message. Once I had the second to check I noticed it was from my good friend Justin. Justin and I have been friends forever it seemed and although we are both married, we keep our friendship on a strictly friend basis since we both enjoy it that way. I guess we were both trying to prove to the world that male and females can just be strictly friends and nothing more. I know some men may chuckle at that statement but, us girls like to still believe it….at least I do.

I opened my phone to a message that stated. Call me at noon, let’s do a movie tonight. I smiled at the message and replied that I would call. I finished my research at the library got into my car and looked at my watch it was almost noon, so I dialed Justin’s number and counted the rings. Although we are in okay marriages, Justin and I found that we enjoyed a lot of the same things and would get together at least once a month and enjoy our hobbies together. Neither my husband, nor his wife could tolerate a play or sit still for a horror movie and we both enjoyed the entertainment of them. Knowing this, we made a pact to enjoy these things together and enjoy life. We had this friendship where we even knew the small and intimate things about each other that no one else would share. My spouse didn’t know half the things I told Justin and he told me of the unsatisfied sex he was getting at home. He is such a charming and handsome guy that I never understood how his wife Marge could resist those baby blue eyes.

He was also the perfect height and weight for me and although we are close friends we did try to have sex once, a long time ago but we felt awkward and didn’t complete the sexual act. I think we got as far as being alone in our under-wear but feeling uneasy and just got dressed and went home. After a long week of silence we decided to keep our friendship intact the way it was and never cross that line again. Hence started our once a month get-togethers. We would either go to a movie, to dinner, lunch or a play. It was all in fun and Justin knew how to make me laugh. The important thing was to have fun.

Justin finally answered the phone on its fourth ring and I teased him telling him to whack off on his own time. Now Denise, if I were jacking off you would have been asked to join me, we both laughed at that and got back to the matter of my call. We missed our movie date last month and Justin wanted to know if I was free tonight since Marge was going out of town.

Definitely, I stated since it’s baseball season and I knew Jay would busy watching the game with some friends. We decided on the time and I picked up a newspaper to bring with me to the theatre. I had to meet Justin at 7pm so I rushed home and jumped in the shower to clean up from the day. Jay had just got home as I was spraying my pinned up hair and brushing my bangs. I decided to wear a sun-dress since the weather was so hot and the dress was mid-length and shoulder-less and most importantly cool. Where you going? my husband asked as he entered the bedroom. Jay knew about Justin and seemed to be okay with the knowledge that I had a male friend. He also knew that Justin is married and seems to feel he was safe for me to hang out with. He always said that Justin wasn’t my type so he didn’t care if we went on our outings as he called them. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, my husband chuckled as I slipped on my sandals and grabbed my purse from the bed and headed downstairs…I will, I giggled and left out of the front door and into my car for the ride into town.

cuffed public exhibitionismexhibitionism in public places

Justin lived only two towns from me and since he worked closer to the theatre I knew he would be there first. I parked my car in the mall and searched for my friend in the open lot. As I got closer to the theatre I noticed Justin standing by the movie house reading the paper. I stood behind him and reached for his exposed neck and rubbed him gently with my hand in a soft but sensuous stroke. He almost jumped out of his skin as he turned to face me. Looking down a bit, he sees me and laughs.

Being short all of my life it was a turn on to know I could date men of different heights and still be sexy next to them. Justin was just 5’11 and medium built and he always had fun teasing me about my 5’0 status. He gave me the nickname munchkin and used it occasionally when teasing me. I didn’t mind, good things came in small packages and I enjoyed the attention my height got me. Justin grabs my hand heading to get us tickets since he knew exactly what we would see, it was sexy to have such an attractive man so in charge and I could swear my pussy twitched when he touched me. I shook the thought out of my head of his touch and we continued our small talk.

Waiting on line for the tickets, Justin started to complain about how horny he was and how Marge was having another mental episode of depression and her medication just made her dried up vaginally and not in the mood. It had been two months now and he just couldn’t take another dry spell. I listened tentatively and told him things will be alright and that he should just be patient with her or maybe have her doctor reduce the medication she was taking. He didn’t know what else to do but promised he would consider it.

Entering the concession stand, I got such a nasty thought and decided to give Justin a surprise and ease some of his tension. I wrestled with the thought that if he didn’t care for my come-on then he could always stop me, but I had to try and make my friend find some release. Get me a small popcorn with lots and lots of butter I asked him as he waited for an attendant. Nice Diet he kidded me, but I had other thoughts and he would eat those words later.

He grabbed us two waters and we headed inside. For an early evening movie the theatre was pretty empty and I nudge him towards the back row in the corner. Why so far back, will you be able to see? Yes, no problem, as I munched on my popcorn and displayed an evil grin. I sat to the farther wall and continued to eat the popcorn as we waited for the movie to start. We continued chatting and just a few more seconds and the lights dimmed and the movie started. Funny, I never asked Justin what movie we were seeing and the credits started rolling before I noticed it on the screen either. The theatre had the air on and I started to feel a chill so I asked Justin to put his arm around me. He did so without much thought and I smiled in the darkness as I cuddled and moved in against him.

Before too long the movie went to some scary parts and I jumped up which caused his hand to move from my shoulder to my braless breasts. I pretended I didn’t notice and just moved my hand over his arm as if I was scared and held his hand there. He softly brushed against my nipple though my clothing and just brushed back and forth slightly, noticing that my nipple grew under his touch the more he made that motion. I turned to him and smiled and he just smiled back as he then made circular motions in my tit encouraging it to expand more for him.

He had been eating the popcorn with me some but I had eaten most of it and my hand was oily and slippery from the salty and buttery combination. Once it was all gone, I move the popcorn box next to me, out of his view and just dumped out whatever residue was left of our treat. Moving forward a bit, I proceeded to punch a hole in the bottom of the box and place it back on the chair next to me.

With my clean hand, I proceeded to reach for Justin’s belt and unhook it. Aiming for his zipper I then undid his button at the top and he really looked at me and start to say something but I pressed a finger to my lips for him to say nothing as I went about my plan of pleasuring him. I whisper to him to keep watching the movie. Getting to his zipper, I pull it down and at this point I start to feel his penis jumping in his underwear. I am getting wetter by the second and my brazen act is getting me even hotter, but this is all about him…for now.

Pulling out his beautiful prick, my mouth starts to water at the feeling of how big the head is as he grows from the attention of my hand. I hear him sigh softly as he pushes out his pelvis to meet my strong strokes on his cock. My hand hits the top and I feel some pre-cum hit my middle finger. I immediately bend down and slip my mouth over his cock-head and start licking in the slit of his pee hole. Tasting him, and licking the cum slightly shooting out in a small drop. I hear him moan yes and I am all over his sweet dick now and stroking and sucking and molding him into my mouth for release. I got so into licking my friend that I almost forgot where we were. His hand had left my shoulder and was on top of my head as he pushed me down further on his cock. He whispered, Don’t Stop, that feels so fucking good. With that cheering on how could I stop…I didn’t ever want to stop and I was on a mission to drain him of every last seed in his body.

I started to stroke slower and deeper and almost reaching his balls I’d come back to his cock-head again. I can feel his breathing quickening and I can feel the air from his nostrils hit my back. He starts thrusting his hips harder at my begging mouth and he tells me, Stop or I’m gonna cum. Well, that wasn’t happening and it just egged me on so I went faster and harder. A scary part must have come up at that point and everyone was screaming instead of Justin who just grabbed my head real tight and rammed his cock further in my mouth as he yelled and shot his thick load to the back of my throat. I hungrily swallowed every drop of his love juice and kept my mouth on him until his tension ebbed. Once he loosened his grip of my head and eased back down to the chair. But I was far from done with him. I loved the fact that he and I could barely talk and I took advantage of that. I took his hand that was over my shoulder and brought it down over my thigh as raised my sundress so he could feel that I had no stockings on.

He rubbed my leg back and forth and as he got higher on my left thigh I spread my thighs to give him better access. As he reached higher I began moaning softly to encourage him to go on. Without hesitating any further, he pushed aside my panties and rubbed my already swollen clit and I almost lost my mind with pleasure. Moving his finger lower, he inserted one finger and then another as I slid down in my seat to have him penetrate my pussy deeper. I leaned back against the seat moaning yessssssssssss softly and placing my hand on his as he changed hands so he had better access and returned to his mission of making me cum. With my hand again on top of his I pushed it in deeper and with my legs spread wide, I placed them on either side of the seat ahead of me.

No one sat there and really at that point I didn’t care, all that mattered was my approaching orgasm and pleasure. I played with my nipples through my clothing and squeezed them both as I pumped my creaming pussy against his hand and fingers ready to explode on them. I reached down and played with my clit while he finger fucked me and then without warning my pussy started to convulse and cream on his hand. Fuck Yes, I cried out as his hand never stopped and I kept coming over and over again. Sitting up, he removed his fingers and I noticed his hard-on had returned. Reaching for the popcorn box, I placed the open end of the bottom over his extended erection and placed my hand inside to start my stroke of his manhood. The residue of the butter was all over the box and it provided the perfect lubricate for stroking Justin. He was going crazy and I saw him lift his fingers to his mouth and suck my pussy cream from them. Watching him do that made me pump his cock faster and before he could stop he had creamed all over my hand. I tried to grab every drop as he milked my hand.

I ended up bringing my hand to my mouth and started licking off all his cum that had leaked on it. He was in awe of me licking him and reached down and grabbed more in my hand to suck up. He found some on my face and scooped it with his finger and I sucked it off.

The movie was running credits at this time and we both ran out of the theatre laughing like ki**, it was great. He kissed me goodbye and we promised to try and se each other earlier next month. I drove home with a smile on my face and excess goodies in my belly. Jay asked me if I was hungry when I arrived home and I just smiles and said, No, I ate too much at the movies. And I was so right.

To this day, I still don’t know what movie we saw….but the popcorn was delicious.

• Daisy lost her dukes part one
• Mary the exhibitionist.

More than the convertable top down
By: joeeybag

My wife and I started driving towards Nashville the day after our wedding. We opted to rent a convertable for the trip so that we could enjoy the wind in our hair and experience the ride. We left the city around 11 a.m. and drove to Louisville, where we stayed the night in a hotel. The next morning we planned to drive from Louisville to Nashville. What we didn’t plan was the events of the short drive.

We did some sightseeing, and were on the final leg of the trip, when my wife reached into my lap and started to massage my member through my pants.

I was quickly starting to get hard, and she had to unzip my pants to give me room. I suggested she take her bra off, so I could massage her tits at the same time. She went further by removing not only her bra, but by taking her top off as well. Now she was naked from the waist up and my dick was as hard as it had ever been. The next thing she did was un-button her shorts and pull them and her underwear down to her ankles. She proceeded to get on her knees and lean over my lap so she could take my rock hard dick into her talented mouth.

The top was still down and our luggage strapped into the back seat of the small car, but she had no problem sticking her lovely plump ass up in the air as she blew me.

The stretch of highway we were on was somewhat deserted at that time of the day, but we were not the only car out there. As she bobbed her head up and down in my lap, I would feel her ample breasts slapping against my leg. I soon drove with 1 hand as I used my right hand to fondle her swaying boobs. This attention that she was giving to my dick, was feeling great. I was starting to get close to shooting my wad down her throat, so I decided to reach across her naked back and finger her cunt. Was she wet! I inserted two fingers into her, and heard the slooshing sounds made by her wet pussy.

About this time, a big 18 wheeler drove past and as he blasted his air horn in appreciation of the show, I blasted what seemed to be a gallon of jizz down her throat. As I struggled to keep the car on the road, I slowed considerably. I pulled on to the shoulder to collect myself, and she sat up with a big smile and some sperm dripping on her chin.

She then proceeded to wipe her chin and with the same finger started to finger her pussy as she sat back against the door with her legs spread wide. I started driving again as she masterbated, but soon the distarction was too great. I saw a turn-off for a road side park, and although there were cars parked there, the far side of the lot was vacant.

I pulled into a spot and after turning the car off, I dove face first into her very wet cunt and started licking her. I paid special attention to her love button, and before long she was starting to buck her hips at my face.

We seemed to be oblivious to the fact that we were in a public place, in a car with the top down, or that she was completely naked with me performing oral sex on her. It was just about dusk, and after about 5 minutes of eating, she started to breath very heavily and stated that she was getting close to coming. I heard a car driving by but the last thing I wanted to do was deny her the same pleasure she gave me a short time before on the road. I quickly drove three fingers into her pussy as I hastened my oral assault on her clit and she soon screamed as her orgasm hit her fast furious. After she pushed my face away so she could regain her senses, I sat up and saw that the car we heard driving up was a Tennessee state police car parked only 2 spots down from us. There was no officer in it or near it.

I looked around and decided that it was time to get the hell out of there before we spent the 2nd night of our married life in jail.

Less than an hour later we arrived at the hotel in Nashville, and while we were parking in the hotel parking garage, a State police car pulled up and the officer asked for my license. As I handed him my license, I asked what I had done wrong. He said nothing was wrong, I did every thing right! Of all the couples and sex he has witnessed at that particular park, he said our display was the most exciting he had seen to date, and he wanted to thank me for the visions I created in his head.

He stated that if it wasn’t for the stories he told his wife of the exhibitionist he saw on the road, his sex life would be non-existent.

I am not sure what came over my wife, but she ended up blowing me on the way home also with the tops down. That was 13 years ago and I have yet to receive another rolling blowjob, but my hopes are still there.

• Conflicted by: jwdoney
• Mardi gras by: mike come on, the…

Monsoon Tryst
By: homesha (homesha@gmail.com)

The summer heat was tormenting. But the humid air heralded the onset of monsoon. Dusky clouds signaled that it would shortly rain. My body, too, received subtle vibes. The thick air stirred a kind of restlessness within me – felt sticky and chilly at the same time. I seemed to hear the call of nature. It was as if mother earth was calling out, telling the creatures of the world to procreate in the impending life giving water of nature. I listened to its call, wanted to soothe down the burning heat of desire engulfing me – a contradictory phenomenon when compared to the outside world, where the temperature has begun to recede. I wanted to release my sexual urge, not with my fingers or jet of water anymore, but with his hard rod which I had felt in our first encounter. I vividly remember the deep cuts of his packed abs and tight muscles of his buttocks. I ached to feel his strong body, wanted to taste him and could not wait to be taken by him.

My palpitation quickened and goose pimples covered me as I started thinking about him and wetness covered my tunnel of love. Gathering up my courage, I resolved to set up a date with him at the nearby café. We had to meet.

I stood near the window and started to dress. Lightning flashed accompanied by delayed roars of thunder. I stretched out my hands to feel the prickly first shower of the monsoon. Rubbed my face with the pure water and decided not to wear any cosmetics. I knew he would kiss me. I’ve seen the lust in his eyes. I should taste natural and no artificial fragrance should subdue my loud pheromone.

Just as a dog can sniff a bitch at a distance, he should be turned on by my own body odor. As I dressed, the thin white shirt felt good on my skin. The cotton fabric gave an airy, refreshing feel to my body. The deeply cut neck-line contrasted the slightly loose fit shape of the shirt. I knew I would be drawing his attention towards my bosom. I won’t mind his exploring eyes. Yet, I would pretend as if I didn’t notice them. Underneath my skirt, the skin of my inner thighs felt smooth against my freshly shaved inside. I decided to leave my thongs at home. He would be happy to know I’ve taken measures to satisfy his roving hands.

I smiled wickedly thinking about the set up I was planning. I just wanted to be taken by him anywhere.

He met me, wearing a relaxed smile, happy to see me again. I was glad that he came to meet me in spite of his busy schedule. The drizzle had cleaned the dusty roads. The air was filled with smell of the earth. I inhaled the life giving pure air deeply. Leaves shone brightly and people looked happy. Farmers would be thanking the rain God and they must have started to work in the fields, looking forward to a good harvest. On my part, I was happy to see him. Up in the sky, saggy clouds hovered and the sun had vanished behind them leaving behind a golden silhouette. Its rays pierced out from the cotton like fluffy masses of clouds. But the dark clouds did not dampen our spirits. On the contrary, we’re happy. The faraway rainbow brightened our spirits.

We looked at each other silently for a long time savoring each other to the fullest level. His calm face pacified me, yet, his piercing eyes stirred me. Now and then he peeped at my cleavage. Beneath my external peaceful look, there was a storm churning inside me.

I breathed hard and wet my lips with the tangy drink. For a change, I liked the fact that we are not drinking anything alcoholic. I wanted to enjoy every bit of it and capture every moment. Moments like this are priceless and some day I’d share with him how happy I was. We were exchanging million thoughts through our eyes. As if reading my mind, he suggested, ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we can run together wildly on a grassy field amid this rain? We will be like two little ki** – our laughter challenging the pit-pat of the rain. And imagine, the world watching us, smiling at our gay abandon?’ He stopped, lest he would convey a wrong impression upon me. I knew he cared a lot about what I would think of him. We were two individuals on the process of discovering each other.

He restrained his words, fearing I would interpret him as someone who would take advantage of me at any given situation. Getting wet in the rain was definitely not a good idea of avoiding getting laid. I saw a tinge of blush in his face. I blushed, too.

‘Yes. Why not?’ I replied. The look in his eyes told me that he didn’t quite believe my words. I repeated, ‘Yes, let’s go for a long ride. We would stop by a meadow and take a walk in the rain. It would be nice’. I remembered my ch**hood. We’re told by our grandmother that anyone who can find the feet of the rainbow would be the richest in the world. On days like this, we used to walk miles in the direction of the rainbow hoping to catch its feet. We never did but we’re happy. ‘Can you help me catch the rainbow?’ I asked him abruptly. I still fail to understand why is that he brings out the ch** in me and why I feel so protected in his presence. ‘Yes, darling, we’ll catch the rainbow. I’ll catch one for you, I promise, put it in a vial so that you can wear it around your neck. And if we can’t catch, we will scream and shout aloud, so that it shatters and falls down on the earth. Then we can pick it up’.

We both laughed at the ch**ish outburst. Few months later I received a gift from him – a gold pendant with stripes of seven colors crafted beautifully by a master goldsmith. He gave me a rainbow. I still wear it around my neck. When I ask him about the vial, he says, ‘Vial denotes imprisonment. Do you want your rainbow to be imprisoned?’ I understood what he meant. More than the gift was the inherent liberation I experienced with him. My mind was filled with seven colours, each shade we enacted emotively, wildly and passionately, a defining discovery of our lives, uninhibited and unbound.

I mounted on his bike.

My breasts were tightly pressed against his back, and my hands clutched his broad chest. We did not mind the rain drops splashing on our faces. The roads were deserted; almost everyone has stopped to take shelter from the rain. We rode fast racing against the wind and the rain pumping up our adrenaline. In our wild chase, we did not notice a speeding car behind us. The old driver threw obscenities at us and screamed to drive carefully. We screamed back not in anger or fury but for the heck of it.

By the time we reached a deserted meadow, I was completely drenched. But I did not feel cold. On the other hand, a feverish desire made me warm.

Water dripped down my wet hair and on my face. My red-colored bra stood against the wet white shirt and my skirt tucked close to the skin of my thighs. He cupped my wet face in his hands and kissed me deeply. He muttered softly, ‘Can you remove your bra? I think you will look very sexy in the white shirt’. He sounded persuasive but my courage disintegrated in spite of my brave preparations. I looked around if any one was around. The though of having sex in the open electrified me, yet, I feared. He did not wait for any responses from me but pulled me under a tree, and removed my bra. Hesitantly, I complied. I neither wanted to deny him nor extinguish my own burning desire. My breasts protruded, displaying the dark areolae against the wet white fabric. He reached for my breasts with his wet hands as his mouth searched for my tongue. I opened my mouth, let his tongue explore inside and massaged his tongue with mine. We gasped for breathe as the ceaseless rain continued its down pour. Just as I would have completely shed my clothes if we’re in a room, I shed away the remaining part of my inhibitions as passion overcame me.

I no longer bothered who was watching us, no longer cared if I was moaning aloud. We are two creatures lost in a world of pleasure, unaware of the world outside. At that moment, we had only one destination – to find love; and only one action – to make love. Hungrily we searched for a path to our destination. My knees became weak; I could no longer stand on my feet as wave after wave of pleasure washed me. He supported my limp body and touched the parts of my body sending me to a world of oblivion. I nearly fainted.
cuffed nude exhibitionism
He unbuttoned his trousers without pulling it down and sat on the wet grass.

The soil was still hard although it had started to leach the rain water. He beckoned me to sit on his lap. I could not resist the invitation. There was no second thought. Since the day we’ve met, I had been waiting for this moment. That was the reason why I had set up this tryst. Lifting up my wet skirt I mounted on his erect manhood just like the way I had sat on his bike and curled my legs firmly around his waist. It was pleasurably warm and I felt as if I’ve got back the lost part of me – I felt whole. But it hurt. I’ve played with myself, my fingers have pleased me and I used to think no dick can hurt me as my middle finger or sometimes two fingers have effortless entered my tight vagina.

As much as I was aware of my own body and prepared, his entry into mine hurt me. He was considerate and magnetically persuasive. Also, he did not mock about my preparedness; never asked me why I was without a panty. With concern in his eyes, he said, ‘Don’t worry, no one will suspect anything. We are just two completely dressed lovers, enjoying the rain in a warm humid day. And honey, it won’t hurt you’. I could not agree less.
exhibitionism in preschoolers
He pulled up my skirt and massaged my ass in full liberty. Now and then, one of his fingers slightly ran over my wrinkled asshole giving me pleasant shocks.

I let his throbbing penis enter my wet pussy slowly and fully. I moaned at the sweet pain, clung closely to his chest and searched for his thick lips to smother the pain. Knowingly he whispered sweet nothings to my ears and rubbed my neck and back to ease away the pain. He wiped away the raindrops from my face and kissed me deeply on my mouth. I bore the pain but there was a time when I wanted to withdraw. He held me tight, refrained me and continued to rock slowly. ‘It’s okay baby. You’re a good girl. You’re beautiful and I love you. Tell me you love me. You’re my angel, aren’t you? Tell me you love me, too’. I succumbed to his utterances, which were husky and sexy. And honestly, more than pleasing myself, I wanted to fulfill his desire and wanted to be his angel.

The pain gradually subsided with each passing stroke and escalated into unbearable pleasure. I closed my eyes and began to participate in the act. Unconsciously and instinctively, I started to ride him up and down. I liked the new found fervor in me – I guess, I was dominating and enjoyed the feeling. He wanted to transport me to the land of unending ecstasy and I was the willing lover.

His left hand firmly supporting my back, his mouth reached for my breasts and sucked them softly; biting them playfully now and then. I fail to remember when my shirt was unbuttoned. The loose ends of the cotton fabric were fluttering in the wind. I liked his warm mouth on my erect nipples. He took turns to suck one after the other. I pleaded him not to stop. ‘Don’t stop. Please suck them harder.’ My pleadings turned into commands. The vision I had when I masturbate in my loneliness turned into reality and I did not want it to vanish. I became selfish. ‘Let me fuck you. You like me riding you? Want me to move faster and faster. I say suck my nipples. Y-e-e-e-e-s-s-h-h-h-h-h-h-h’. I rode him fast and furious as if that was the last fuck of my life. He, at the same time, commanded me to not stop. He held my waist in his strong hands and rocked me back and forth, meeting my movements thrust for thrust. Rhythm was the key. We were seamlessly tuned to each others responses. We were, then, two bodies, synchronized to achieve a common goal.

Our movements became more vigorous. The soft grassy ground gauged under our energetic pressure.

Pool of water accumulated under his ass and muddied us. That gave me a sudden stimulation and aroused me further. For the first time, I looked around-not in embarrassment but in added valour. At a yonder I saw movements. Raindrops acted as veil, but any curious bystanders would know what we’re doing. I wanted the faceless people to know what we’re ‘doing’ and make them envy. I remembered how my neighbors espied me the next day especially after I had masturbated and moaned aloud the previous night. The thought that they would be using me in their fantasy but never able to touch me increased my sexual stimulation. With this sadistic thought in my mind, I moaned aloud to attract their attention – bit my lover’s neck as he bit my nipples. He looked at my eyes and said huskily, ‘You’re beautiful’.

I pulled his mouth back to my breasts, held him firmly by his hair and continued moving until I felt violent contractions in my groin. He muttered in suffocation but I did not care. He dug his teeth deeper into my left nipple and violently fucked me, which heightened my pleasure. Something erupted inside me. I saw million of stars and my body shook wildly. I screamed loudly and bit his neck as if I was a vampire. Curious bystanders would have known by then that we’re fucking. It gratified me immensely to know they heard a sound which would be replayed again and again whenever they jerk themselves off. As the tremors slowly escaped from my body, I felt his warm cum gushing into my pussy.

He let go of my nipples, looked deeply into my eyes and moaned. That was the most powerful embrace I’ve ever had in my life. Slowly, I felt his hardness melt away and loosen his grip. We clung on to each other’s body, a warm glow of satisfaction reigned on our faces as rain drops fell ‘pit-pat, pit-pat’ on our satisfied but exhausted bodies.

• College camping trip
• Mandy’s dogging night