As I am writing this I have my left hand inside my panties with my second and ring fingers laying long against my labia and my clitoris trapped there in the finger crotch. That is my favorite way to cradle my pussy. If I press down firmly and rock my hand back-and-forth and I can stay aroused for the whole time it takes to write the rest of this confession. I hope you take your meat out, whatever form your meat may take, and stroke along with me while you read it.
I will warn you that my story is not vanilla. I have enjoyed things that some people find offensive and gotten into some kinky situations where the rules were different or even made up as the encounter progressed, but everything was done consensually and everyone always had a good time. Also, of course I didn't discover my kinky side until I was over eighteen. So if you are ready for the ride, buckle up. (Personally I rarely turn down a good ride.)
My name is Emma Brittany. You probably don't believe I would tell you my real name but that's it. I don't care what anyone thinks. My motto is "fuck it." You can't find me anyway. I live off the radar. I pay cash for everything. Oh if you get lucky you might get to see one of my performances someday, When I'm on stage I am Candy Kane the Rosy Bottom Queen and I am protected but after the show I disappear into the night so for you Emma Brittany is a ghost.
When I was in college that I found out how easy it was to manipulate boys just by offering them my ass across their lap. As a result I am now a 26-year-old college dropout. I mean I guess that wasn't the only reason, but really how could I study with all those gorgeous horny bodies around me all the time? Cracking a book just didn't compete. The problem with dropping out is as soon as I did my parents quit giving me money. So after quitting I was poor for several years. Being poor sucks. On the other hand, I don't much like working either. It seems such a shame to spend all my time somewhere I don't want to be doing something I don't want to do like standing in a stupid store pushing buttons on a screen while checking people out for instance. I refuse to say "do you want fries with that." I am allergic to perfume so I really can't stand behind the counter and sell cosmetics to aging ladies who are hoping to find a magic pill that will make them as attractive as they used to be to whoever they are trying to attract. They say do what you like to do as your job and you will never work a day in your life. Well, I like hanging out by the pool in my bikini. I like eating out, and I mean restaurants and the other kind too. I like teasing men I don't know and watching their reactions, and I like getting spanked.
I don't know why I like getting spanked. I guess you would have to ask my therapist if I had one. Doesn't matter. However, It has to be a specific kind of spanking. Not one where the spanker is just being mean, but one where I am being taught a lesson after having been a naughty girl. Or maybe a scenario where I have been flirting with a stranger on the beach and got caught by my boyfriend, or maybe I didn't do a job correctly at work, or maybe I got caught smoking and I have to hold a cigarette between my cheeks while getting swats as a punishment. There are all kinds of scenarios and they share the theme that I have been bad and need correction.
Just the thought of a good spanking makes my pussy and my bhole throb. I have been spanked by twenty-three people so far. I have kept a list. Nineteen of them are men. The strangest one I ever had, so far, was when a husband watched while his wife and I sucked and toyed for two hours before he spanked us both side by side. He didn't even care about the double bj we offered.
I have done OTK, touch the toes, over a bench or chair arm, on all fours, strapped to the cross, diaper and wheelbarrow. Wheelbarrow is the most vulnerable in my opinion because my parts are so exposed. With my legs spread like that the spanker can see not only my crotch and my hairy holes, but because the labia is stretched open they can see all the way up my pink wet cunt to the cervix. I know, I've seen pictures.
The other thing you should know about me is that I am an exhibitionist. I am always the first one to get naked. I love skinny dipping. Once, at a hot springs in Colorado, well of course everyone was naked all day in the water, but that evening, in the shelter house there was a big fire and even though everyone else got dressed, I stayed naked all night. I danced around the fire and let everyone, including some old guys look all they wanted. Why shouldn't old guys enjoy my skin too? It doesn't cost me anything and it makes them so happy.
I am, in truth, an ordinary-looking girl. Kind of skinny with smallish boobs and a tiny tummy pouch. I do have an oversized, for my body, ass, which is an, ummm, asset for a spankee. Even though I have light brown hair (top and bottom) and am not a true blonde, I have very light creamy skin that reddens easily which heightens the drama of any good spanking. My most impressive feature is my lush patch. It starts at my navel and travels gloriously down my pubic mound until it splits into two furry beasts and frames my slit beautifully. Then it trickles down into the most delicate tiny hairs sprinkled like a candy topping around my little star-shaped sphincter. Right in front of my unusually large clitoris, the hairs have grown long and straight like a VanDyke beard. They have been measured at just over four inches and I'm not exaggerating.
So my new boyfriend, Louie and I were in the park the other day sitting on a bench. I have a special bench there I like to sit on because it is right on the curve of the jogging path. That means when the runners come down the path they can see me sitting on the bench from quite a ways away and they're running right towards me until the path curves away only a few feet before the bench. My game is to sit there on the bench and then when a cute boy starts coming down the path towards me, to open my legs up and give him a look. Sometimes it's just a flash and sometimes if they spot me early in their approach they get to look up my dress for 10 or 15 seconds. I like to wear yellow panties so there's no question about what they're looking at. If I wore black panties they might think it was just a shadow. I only do this when I'm with a boyfriend because I don't really want anything to happen I just get a thrill out of exposing myself.
Exhibitionism does several things for me. It makes me feel naughty and in need of discipline. It puts me in control sexually. There is also the danger of humiliation aspect. I don't want the moment to get weird, but knowing people might freak out is part of the thrill. Sometimes I, or we if the boyfriend is in on it, go with the 'accident' scenario. Usually when that's the case you can say "sorry sorry" and back away. If it's straight-up exposure then I try to have an exit strategy and to pick spots that give me multiple escape routes. Usually, I'm just flashing but sometimes in the right locations, I will get totally, pink skin and goose bumps, pussy hair flapping in the wind stark naked. I will suddenly jump out in front of a victim and then run away. That's the biggest thrill but the scariest and most dangerous. Once, after losing a bet, I did get naked and do a walking streak from one car to another waiting car a hundred feet away through a busy street crowd. Maybe a hundred people saw me, but it was all over so fast that nobody had time to recover and react. What were they going to do anyway? Of course if a cop or someone that knew me had been there it could have gotten dicy. It was worth the risk though for the tectonic plate shift in my clitoris and anus.
Someday I may go to the limit and actually fuck in public, but so far I've been chicken. Anyway, for me flashing my body to a stranger and then disappearing is the sweet spot.
Louie and I hadn't been together very long and he didn't know the extent of what a freak I am so I didn't know how he would feel about my predilection for exposing my body. I couldn't help myself though, old habits die hard, so I was doing my flashing on the down low. I would wait until he was staring at his phone screen and then spread my legs. I would look away like nothing was happening and then casually glance back to gauge the effect on my victim. I got away with it twice, but the third time he caught me.
"Emma! What are you doing?" I slammed my legs together. "Are you flashing the joggers?!"
I was flustered. I didn't know how he was going to react.
I put a hand on his thigh, near his package, which is a trick for diverting a boy's attention that generally worked quite well.. I was getting ready to deny it or apologize, whatever I had to do when he said, "do it again."
So when the next male came into sight I opened up for him. It was an old guy, maybe forty and he was huffing and puffing until he spotted me then suddenly his eyes got big and he seemed to get renewed energy. Probably became a confirmed jogger after that so maybe I saved his life.
He jogged on around the corner reluctantly glancing back several times.
So Louie says "Emma, I can't believe you are flashing other men behind my back while you are with me."
"It's just a little game," I said. "It doesn't mean anything."