RELATED TAG: exhibitionism short stories
Hallway
By: Pat (red_skirt@yahoo.com)It was the last evening of the conference, and I’d decided to treat myself to a nice dinner in the hotel restaurant followed by a drink in the nightclub next door. It had proven an interesting experience, since the nightclub turned out to feature topless dancers! After I had gotten over the initial shock, I found myself strangely affected. What would make a girl get up on the stage and expose herself that way? They certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves, I had to admit. I stayed longer than I had planned, and drank more than I had intended to.
Returning to my hotel room, I decided to have another drink and maintain the happy buzz I’d acquired. Grabbing a handful of change from my purse, I took the ice bucket and wandered in search of the Coke machine and ice dispenser. The hallways of the hotel were deserted except for a litter of room service trays, although I could occasionally hear the muted sound of a radio or TV behind one of the closed doors.
I filled the ice bucket and fed the hungry Coke machine, then returned to my room and got out my little travel flask of rum and fixed myself a drink in the plastic hotel glass. Walking over to the window, I surveyed the empty parking lot and the blank windows facing me.
Other than cars scurrying by on a distant street, there wasn’t a sign of life anywhere.
Sitting at the small table, I put my feet on the remaining chair in the room and sighed. It had been a hectic week, and I was looking forward to going back home tomorrow. As I sipped my drink, I thought again about the girls in the nightclub. Funny, it seemed so strange to think that once I probably would have loved to do that myself! I’d always been a bit of an exhibitionist as a kid, seizing on any chance to run around in a bathing suit, my underwear or less when my parents weren’t home. Amazing I didn’t get in more trouble.
The tendency was there in college, too, encouraged by being away from home in a strange town but toned down because I had to live in the dorm. What I would have given for a place of my own, then!
I even took some psychology classes and did some research, but there wasn’t too much in the literature. I did find one discussion of how some exhibitionistic people get into what they call a ‘fugue state’ where they get so wound up in what they’re doing that they get somewhat obsessed and take chances they wouldn’t ordinarily.
That sounded a little like me as a ch**, and since I was right on the point of getting engaged to a nice but very straight-laced guy who was somewhat embarrassed by the fact that I liked to wear bikinis whenever I got the chance, I decided I didn’t need any hidden obsessions that might prove embarrassing. His family was even more prudish, so I made myself forget all about it and worked hard at being a prim and proper young lady they would all be proud of. The engagement never lead anywhere, but by then I was involved in graduation and job hunting, so the old urgings never resurfaced.
It dawned on me that I was alone now and I wondered if the old thrill was still there. Standing, I slipped off my skirt and regarded myself in the mirror. The square-cut tail of my blouse ended just above my panties.
I unbuttoned the blouse and hung it and the skirt up, then sat back down and had another sip of my drink. It did feel rather neat and a little bit naughty to be sitting here in just my underwear. I kicked my feet up on the other chair and leaned back. Wiggling a foot, I regarded my legs in their dark stockings and high heels. I rather liked that shade of brown, I decided. Thinking about the girls in the nightclub I decided my legs were as nice as theirs. And while my figure might not be up to Playboy standards, at least no one was likely to mistake me for a boy!
Wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gotten involved with Matt? Would I have ever given topless dancing a try?
Thinking back to my girlhood, I remembered some real ambivalence – I had fantasized about other people seeing me, but I was also terrified of getting caught. But if it were part of a real job, one that I was getting paid for? Wow, what a thought! And that one dancer, Janet, who walked around the club topless before her set even started, shaking hands and introducing herself to everyone! She was smiling and really seemed to be enjoying herself. When you thought about, I guess being up there on the stage would be fun but walking around bare breasted and really talking to people would be the ultimate turn-on.
The sound of noisy laughter in the hallway broke my reverie – someone else seemed to have enjoyed their evening! I walked over to the door and looked out the little peephole in time to see two couples walk past.
Soon the hallway was quiet again. I stretched luxuriously then went to the bathroom.
My drink was down to to the last half-inch and mostly water, so I dumped that down the lavatory and made a fresh one while I was up. I looked out the peephole in the hotel room door again; the deserted hallway seemed empty now. All those half-forgotten memories and urges came flooding back and I felt my whole body grow warmer. Still looking intently through the lens, my hand gripped the knob and turned slowly. Easing the door open a crack, I peered out – still nothing in sight. Bolder now, I opened the door wider and put a tentative foot into the hall.
The sounds of an elevator came from my left, and I eased the door closed again. I heard voices, but could see nothing through the little fisheye lens in the door.
I watched and waited for a while, then opened the door slightly, sticking my head out and scanning the hallway. Hardly daring to breathe, I leaned out a little farther. It was empty now, but I knew that a door could open any second and someone walk out ,so it would be really stupid of me to walk out there. Yes, this was the feeling I remembered from so long ago: excited, then scared, then excited again. Well, I could play it safe by just stepping out a little way, keeping a hand on the door. That way I would be able to duck back in as soon as I heard a door start to open, and be inside my room before they could even step into the hall! Heart beating fast, I edged one leg into the hall and leaned out.
Looked both ways – nothing. One more step, still holding the doorknob tightly. My legs looked so sexy in the brown nylons!
Back inside, I closed the door gently and fastened the deadbolt, then shakily walked back for a big swallow of my drink. Breathing a little faster now, I regarded myself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. I thought back to Janet walking around the nightclub topless. Watching my reflection, I unhooked my bra and let it slide off my breasts onto the floor. I walked over to the dresser and picked up my room key, clutching it tightly as I eased the door open again. The hallway was deserted once more as I took first one, then a second tentative step outside my room.
I stood in the middle of the hall for a second, looking down at my bare breasts before I hurriedly slipped back into my room.
Why was I doing this? What was this delicious feeling that spurred me on? Even now a small voice inside me was urging me to do it again, but without my panties this time. I slid them off, placing the scrap of white lace on the hotel dresser. Reaching for my drink, I studied my reflection as I sipped, regarding the figure in high heels and dark brown hose with interest. I looked good this way, I decided.
Once more I gripped the key tightly and checked the hall. All clear. I held my breath as I stepped out of my room and let the door close gently behind me.
I heard the automatic lock click and squeezed the key tighter. Knowing the door had locked increased my sense of excitement – I’m really out here now, I thought, and looked up and down the length of the deserted corridor. What will I do if someone comes out? Maybe I should leave the key in the lock to save time. But I couldn’t move – I just stood there in the hall naked, sensing the life of the hotel around me, imagining all the separate existences behind each of the closed doors stretching away from me in both directions.
Were they looking out their little peepholes now, wondering what this strange woman was doing standing in the hall without her clothes on? Probably not, I decided – I had never really looked out one of those peepholes myself until today. What would they think if they could see me, though? I walked another few steps, wishing I had the courage to walk farther.
Maybe to the stairwell with the ice and Cokes. The sound of the elevator made me forget my wild notions and rush back to my door, fumbling the key in the lock.
The elevator passed on to another floor. Feeling as exhausted as if I had run a mile, I finally got the door open and went back inside, picking up my drink with a trembling hand. I sat down and took off my stockings, shoving my bare feet back into my shoes. Rummaging through my suitcase, I found the light cotton robe I had brought along and put it on. I hung all my clothes neatly in the closet and put my stockings and underwear into a dresser drawer, then I got out change for the Coke machine and a spare pack of matches.
The hallway was deserted as I counted my steps to the stairway door at the end.
Twenty-five. I blocked the door open a crack with the matchbook and got my Coke out of the machine. Then I waited, clutching the cold can in one hand and my room key in the other.
A couple got off the elevator and walked towards the other end of the hall, then a room service waiter delivered a tray. I was about to give up and go back to my room when I heard the elevator once more. This is it, I told myself. I can’t stay here any longer – I’m crazy to begin with, and the longer I wait the greater the chance that something will go wrong.
The elevator was stopping at this floor. I bit my lip as the crack in the door revealed two men getting off together.
They talked for a minute, then one turned and opened a door by the elevator. A last wave of the hand and the other one turned my way. He looked a few years younger than me, with short brown hair and a tanned face that saw a lot of sun. Broad shoulders under a blue blazer, tie loose and briefcase in one hand, he began to walk towards my end of the hall.
Now or never, I told myself. My throat was dry and I realized I had been breathing through my mouth. With shaking hands, I untied the sash of my robe and slipped it off, dropping it in the corner behind a vending machine. Key in one hand and Coke in the other, I pushed open the door and stepped into the hall. There was a buzzing in my ears and it was hard to breathe.
He had been looking down at his key, but I saw him raise his head at the sound of the stairwell door opening.
His face froze as he saw me walking naked down the hall holding my Coke. I made a show of studying the room numbers on the doors as I walked closer. Eighteen steps, nineteen, and still he hadn’t moved a muscle. Closer, I could see the wrinkles around the outside of his blue eyes, the slightly parted mouth.
My heart raced – would he say something? Would he call the hotel detective? Twenty-one, twenty-two. He finally came out of his trance and started walking my way, the beginnings of a smile on his face. I smiled back as nonchalantly as I could and stopped in front of my door.
I could feel his eyes on me as I inserted the key in the lock and pretended to have trouble turning it.
Hello! came a pleasant voice from behind me. Having problems?
Hello! I replied brightly. Darn key seems to be sticking again.
He cleared his throat hesitantly. Want me to try it? he asked in a tentative voice.
If you wouldn’t mind. The sensation of standing there in the hotel corridor and talking to a man while wearing only my high heels was intoxicating – a fantasy come true! I handed him the key and watched his gaze drop to my breasts before moving on to the lock.
After opening it with no trouble – of course – he handed my key back with a flourish. Thank you, I said sweetly.
My pleasure, he assured me. Could have been embarrassing to get locked out of your room.
Yes, it sure would have. Say, I was just getting some mixer for a drink – could I offer you one by way of payment?
He hesitated; wondering, I’m sure, what he might be getting mixed up in. But he accepted and followed me into the room.
Rum and Coke all right? I asked as I unwrapped a glass and dumped ice into it.
Uh, yeah – that’s fine. Say, I, uh, like your outfit!
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This old thing? I asked teasingly. Why, I’ve had it for years!
He gave a nervous laugh as I turned and handed him his drink. Cheers!
You don’t mind, do you? I asked earnestly. I can put something on, if you’d rather.
Oh, no – not on my account! You, uh, you comfortable like that?
Mmmm – very. You’re sure you don’t mind?
No, it’s just a little unusual to, uh, see a woman walking down the hall with nothing on but a pair of shoes, that’s all.
What do you think of the shoes, by the way – do you like them?
He looked surprised. Yeah, I guess so.
I’ve always thought I looked good in high heels, so I wear them whenever I can.
Well, I’ve always liked to look at women in high heels, so maybe I’m prejudiced, but I think they look great. He paused to take a swallow of his drink. They, uh, set off the rest of your outfit.
I smiled, lit a cigarette, and then offered him one. We took our drinks over to the small table and sat down. I crossed my legs and remarked, It’s nice not to have to worry about my skirt.
Or whether your slip is showing.
Exactly! We both laughed.
We talked for a while longer. I’d like to report that the episode ended in a night of bliss, but actually he finished his drink, thanked me politely and left. I suppose he wasn’t really sure just what I was up to – the modern mind is always searching for the gimmick, the catch; and rightly so in most cases, I’m afraid. For all he knew I could be a psycho who’d suddenly produce a big knife or a jealous husband, so I can’t blame him for being suspicious. But if one day you happen across a tall, green-eyed dishwater blonde wearing only a pair of slim high heels in your hotel hallway, give her the benefit of the doubt, okay?
