I Am a Female Exhibitionist
I wonder if I am.
Quiet by name, quiet by nature, I hate drawing attention to myself.
On Friday evening I went with my friend Catherine to my course tutor's house, for dinner and to smoke a little hash (Donald Trump's nominee for attorney general has said that "Good people don't smoke marijuana", so it had to be done). Her husband was away for the weekend, so we talked long into the night.
At some stage she took us to see her indoor pool (her husband is a professor at our medical school, so they can afford a very nice house) and said Catherine and I could take a swim if we wanted.
At that moment it seemed the best idea in the world, so we started to get undressed. I was going to keep my underwear on, but my tutor gently mocked me for my modesty and, as Catherine had already taken everything off and was in the pool, I got completely undressed as well.
We had a beautiful half hour swimming by candlelight, clad only in soft warm water.
As I became tired I pulled myself out of the water at the point where I thought I had left my clothes and the towel my hostess had brought me. But they were not there. Dripping wet and as bare as the day I was born, I looked around me and saw that she had not-very-subtly moved them to the other side of the pool, from where she was watching me with smiling eyes.
"Aha, so that is your game", I thought. My heart racing slightly, but the situation seeming really rather pleasant (to my cannabis-soothed mind, at least). A woman who I liked and respected greatly had taken an interest in me that went beyond the student-teacher relationship. And I was not about to deny her her pleasure.
So I flicked my wet hair back and slowly, confidently and proudly made my way round the pool to where she was sitting. I did not blush, I did not stumble, I did not try to hide myself. And when I reached her, I did not grab a towel or my clothes. I sat next to her, still in my birthday suit, and had a really fun and flirtatious conversation.
Should I have risked this? I never intended to have sex with her and the question never arose (she is, after all, happily married). Yet I loved playing this unusual role, giving pleasure to an older woman and receiving heaps back.
And, of course, feeling completely comfortable in my own, beautiful skin :-)
Quiet by name, quiet by nature, I hate drawing attention to myself.
On Friday evening I went with my friend Catherine to my course tutor's house, for dinner and to smoke a little hash (Donald Trump's nominee for attorney general has said that "Good people don't smoke marijuana", so it had to be done). Her husband was away for the weekend, so we talked long into the night.
At some stage she took us to see her indoor pool (her husband is a professor at our medical school, so they can afford a very nice house) and said Catherine and I could take a swim if we wanted.
At that moment it seemed the best idea in the world, so we started to get undressed. I was going to keep my underwear on, but my tutor gently mocked me for my modesty and, as Catherine had already taken everything off and was in the pool, I got completely undressed as well.
We had a beautiful half hour swimming by candlelight, clad only in soft warm water.
As I became tired I pulled myself out of the water at the point where I thought I had left my clothes and the towel my hostess had brought me. But they were not there. Dripping wet and as bare as the day I was born, I looked around me and saw that she had not-very-subtly moved them to the other side of the pool, from where she was watching me with smiling eyes.
"Aha, so that is your game", I thought. My heart racing slightly, but the situation seeming really rather pleasant (to my cannabis-soothed mind, at least). A woman who I liked and respected greatly had taken an interest in me that went beyond the student-teacher relationship. And I was not about to deny her her pleasure.
So I flicked my wet hair back and slowly, confidently and proudly made my way round the pool to where she was sitting. I did not blush, I did not stumble, I did not try to hide myself. And when I reached her, I did not grab a towel or my clothes. I sat next to her, still in my birthday suit, and had a really fun and flirtatious conversation.
Should I have risked this? I never intended to have sex with her and the question never arose (she is, after all, happily married). Yet I loved playing this unusual role, giving pleasure to an older woman and receiving heaps back.
And, of course, feeling completely comfortable in my own, beautiful skin :-)
26-30, F
