A note to readers. This story is entirely fictional, and rather unbelievable. I am a man writing from the perspective of what I dream of when I jack off. If you also enjoy slightly unrealistic exhibitionism and public nudity with mild bdsm/control, then read on and enjoy. If you don't, please look elsewhere! :)
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What can I tell you about myself? I guess it depends on what you want to know! But I suppose the fact you're here reading this means you want the juicy stuff. I'm Anna and I'm 22 years old. I live in the UK. I'm single. Lucky you. Although you probably wouldn't be able to handle me. I've only ever found one person who can, and he's the subject of this tale. Although he was never going to be long term partner material. It was a symbiotic relationship. We both got our thrills and then moved on.
I'm getting ahead of myself. A lot. Sorry.
Back to me! I'm average height with straight blonde hair. I've got blue/grey eyes, and everyone says I have a nice smile, particularly when I smile with my eyes! I've no idea how people notice though because everyone always seems to be fixated on my chest. My boobs are my best asset. They're not massive, but they are large. They're perky too and topped with pink nipples that are larger than average when cold or when I'm horny.
I keep myself in shape in the gym and doing yoga. I also watch what I eat. Not religiously, but I'm careful. I like to keep fat to a minimum. And I guess being in good shape accentuates the curves of my chest too.
I've never worn a bra. Well, except for occasionally wearing a sports bra. But to be honest, even that only happens when I'm going to be really vigorous. Two reasons: I hate the restriction of the tight fabric, and I also love the feelings I get when people notice my braless state. The best bit is that I usually get horny which makes my nipples erect, and that in turn helps to confirm what's going on. And then I get wet and tingly downstairs.
Oh, and that's where another of my quirks comes into play. I rarely wear knickers too. So, when I get wet down there it often starts to trickle gently down my inside leg. So naughty and so sexy. I love feeling the cold air caressing my intimate areas. And the juices improve the feeling too. All in all, I end up horny as fuck. I like to keep myself like that for as long as I can. It greatly helps the pleasure when I finally do something about it.
I love sex. I'll get it wherever I can. But I'm not faithful. I've been known to have more than one partner in the same night. It's amazing how easy it is to get laid when you're relaxed about it. Particularly as a woman. There's always some bastard willing to fuck you. I love the power it makes me feel allowing someone to think they're in control of me. They aren't.
In general sex is with a man, but I don't draw the line. If I want another woman, I'll have her. There are certain benefits to fucking women. The clean-up is a lot easier for starters. And she knows exactly what makes me shudder with pleasure.
I'm getting carried away again. Did you imagine me start rubbing my pussy? Yep! I'm wet just thinking about this. I'll try and control myself, but I may just have to finish myself off. I'd let you watch if you were here with me.
Yes, I'm a slut. I'm proud of it too. I haven't always been this way though, and that's where we'll probably start this story. The slut has always been there and dormant, but it needed someone to wake her up. That's where Maximus comes in. Maximus isn't his real name of course, it's more a descriptor. For his dick. More on that later, I'm sure.
It all started a year or so ago. I had just finished my dinner when I heard something being pushed through my letterbox. I collected a blank envelope from the doormat and set down on the sofa to open it. It was probably just marketing junk, although it shouldn't be. I had a notice on the door saying I didn't want that crap. It was a good quality envelope though.
Inside was a single sheet of high-quality paper with a hand written note. It was good handwriting too. Quite masculine. I read the note over a few times, stunned. And then I noticed a faint tingle between my legs. And I knew I would do what the note asked.
You probably want to know what the note said. Good thing I kept it!
You want this.
I know you do.
You probably don't.
Not yet.
But you will.
I am taking control.
Stand topless in your bedroom window at 10pm.
Hands by your sides.
Stay for 10 minutes.
Do not cover yourself.
Maximus.
I was stunned. I was confused. I was intrigued. And ultimately, I was mildly turned on. Who was this person? What was it that they knew I wanted? How could they be so forward as to ask me to stand half naked in my window?
I already knew I would do it. Don't ask me how I knew. I just did. The question is what to wear on my bottom half. Should I just wear a skirt? Or should I wear a dress and just slip my arms out of the straps? Give the opportunity to cover up in an emergency.
My bedroom window was at the back of the house. How did the author know this? At least it would minimise the amount of people who might randomly see me. Was that a good thing? Was that intended? I couldn't decide.
I checked my watch. 9pm. 1 hour to wait.
I busied myself tidying the house. Anything to take my mind off the excitement. But the dampness between my legs was a consistent reminder. Nevertheless, the time went quickly and with about 10 minutes to go I went upstairs to my bedroom and pulled a pleated skirt out of my drawer. Nothing fancy, but it was a skirt I often wore with a crop top as it enhanced the look of my abs nicely.
I slipped the skirt on and took off my top. I don't know why, but I also put on some heels. I gently rubbed my nipples as they quickly stood to attention in the cooler air. I checked myself in the mirror. I looked hot.
I nervously stepped to the window and pulled the curtains back. It was bang on 10pm. I stood there with my hands by my side as requested. I asked my Alexa speaker to time 10 minutes.