Confessions Of A Fledgling Flasher Pt 02

Confessions of a Fledgling Flasher

Part Two

Those who have already read TCFF Part One know that a fan of my short story, Snap Shot shared with me a uniquely personal glimpse into how she became an avowed and thoroughly uninhibited exhibitionist. This young woman asked me to help her tell her story in a way that would make her true confessions as exciting to the people reading about her exploits as it was for her to live them. To remain as true as possible to the secrets she confided, I have made as few editorial changes as possible while keeping her original narrative exactly as she related it to me. Every last, little bit of what happened remains very much her story. As with CFF Part One, you will discover this next chapter does not follow the usual chain of events found in most erotic stories. The reason why, is because her story is true to life, and every bit of it actually happened exactly as you are reading it. In essence, you are there. I sincerely hope you will enjoy reading what this amazing young woman revealed to me as much as I enjoyed putting it out there for you.

M. Millswan

As a precocious and excitable young girl who had only just experienced her first taste of forbidden fruit, it seemed like an eternity might pass before I could find a way to get myself another opportunity to fulfill my fantasies with Mr. Taylor. After returning home from my weekend sleepover with my friend, Kaylee, as you can imagine I absolutely could not get my experience in the kitchen with Mr. Taylor out of my mind. No matter what I was doing, going to school or even eating dinner with my parents, and especially while trying to fall asleep at night, I couldn't help but find myself falling back into the memory and reliving the thrill of every moment over and over again. That I had somehow found the courage and been so bold and so brazen as to bend over in front of my friend's dad with my nightie riding up over my hips and give him a clear view of my bare bottom was absolutely breathtaking to me. But that Mr. Taylor had understood it for the invitation it was, come up from behind me, placed his hands on my hips and actually pushed the bulge in the front of his clean, white tennis shorts up into my soaking-wet pussy was more exciting than anything I had ever imagined I would experience in my entire life. If Kaylee hadn't come out of her bedroom when she did and almost walked in on us, I feel confident Mr. Taylor would have pulled down his shorts and plunged himself all the way up inside me. Even though I couldn't be one hundred percent sure my friend's dad would have actually taken our clandestine little encounter that far, I could not get the 'what-if-Kaylee-hadn't-almost-caught us' fantasy from playing out in my mind. In my imagination, I could see it unfold. The warm sunlight streaming in through the kitchen's sliding glass doors, and me bent over in front of the refrigerator with my flimsy, little nightie up over my hips and my bare bottom enticing Mr. Taylor to come closer. Even if, technically, I still had on my nightie when Mr. Taylor moved me over to the kitchen table I felt as though I was completely naked. Leaning over with my hands holding onto the edge of the kitchen table, I made sure to keep my bare feet spread wide apart on the floor so I could enjoy that delicious feeling of being so open and vulnerable up between my legs. It was beyond exciting to have Mr. Taylor behind me, cupping and fondling my breasts with those strong yet gentle hands of his while pushing that rock-hard bulge in the front of his shorts deeper and deeper and deeper up into the cleft between my legs. If this isn't a young girl's O...M...G! moment, then what is?

I must admit, from an early age I've always had perhaps a little too much interest in sex, so it's probably not difficult to believe me when I confess, whether I'm in the bathtub or in my bed, it's ridiculously easy for me to work myself up into an explosive orgasm. My slick and silky area secret spot where the tops of my lips come together and all around the sides of my little, pink rosebud (as I love to call it) is extremely sensitive to touch, especially when I'm aroused. With my memory of Mr. Taylor pressing that bulge of his up into me so vivid in my mind, while sitting at the dinner table with my parents and just squeezing my thighs tightly together, I experienced a nearly catastrophic meltdown between my legs. Red-faced and shaking, I had to tell my worried parents I'd choked on a bite of food!

Emboldened by what I'd dared to do with Kaylee's dad, yet unsatisfied that I hadn't had enough time to find out just how far he would have gone with me, the fire he'd left burning inside me caused me to focus for now, on finding more adventurous and exciting new ways to fulfill my exhibitionism fantasies out in public. Of course, the key to all the fun remained acting innocent and entirely unaware. While riding on the bus or sitting in class, I had grown quite adept at making it seem as though I had no idea that my skirt was a bit too short and my legs spread a bit too far apart. Or that my bra was too loose and my blouse a bit too low cut as I bent over to pick up my books in the library or my lunch tray in the cafeteria. When I would witness the effect flashing my body had on the boys I was treating to a peek, playing out these little peekaboo games provided me with such an incredible thrill, I have to confess, it had grown into an addiction.

Yet my encounter with Mr. Gibson had left me so ravenous I now craved much, much more than peekaboo games. Whether I was soaking in a bubble bath or lying atop my bed wearing the very same nightie I'd worn to tease Mr. Taylor, while imagining countless scenarios in which I gave myself over to him, it was just too easy to bring myself to orgasm over and over again. Sometimes, just imagining Mr. Taylor behind me pulling down his shorts and holding himself with his hand to position the tip to push up inside me was enough to leaving me quivering, and I didn't even need to use my fingers! Since I had no idea of when or even if I would have another opportunity to be alone with Mr. Taylor, I began to formulate a plan to take my exhibitionism to an even more daring level. To accomplish this, I would need to put my body out on display in an open and public place. While using all the powers of my imagination to devise a plan, envisioning different scenarios provided a fun distraction. Yet never able to get Mr. Taylor too far out of my mind, I knew he had been preparing to leave to play tennis when I walked in on him drinking coffee in his kitchen that Saturday morning. Thinking I might try to stage my 'innocent-yet-naughty-girl' display where he goes to play tennis, I called Kaylee and told her a little white lie, saying that my dad was interested in joining a tennis club and asked her where her dad plays. Unfortunately, Kaylee told me the tennis club where her dad plays on Saturday mornings is too far away for me to go without a car. Since I didn't drive yet, I was disappointing to learn I couldn't show myself off to Mr. Taylor where he goes to play tennis. Yet I found the idea of putting my body out on display for more mature men Mr. Taylor's age very exciting. I don't know why, maybe it had something to do with Mr. Taylor's confidence and experience, but arousing the interest of older and more mature men was so exciting to me, I really wasn't all that interested in showing off my body to boys my own age anymore.

Never one to give up on an idea because of one setback, I recalled when I was in middle school, my dad liked to play golf. Though he hadn't played since I was in high school, the country club where he had been a member was close enough for me to ride there on my bicycle. The very next Saturday I took a little ride there, and after looking around and seeing so many handsome older men relaxing outside the club house in the patio area, it was so very exciting to realize this place would work perfectly. Over the next week, I poured my passion into my plan, putting the pieces together and practicing everything over and over again in my bedroom until I was confident it would work.

That Saturday morning as I rode my bike to the country club I was so excited and my heart was thumping wildly in my chest. It was a beautiful spring day. When I rode through the parking lot there were so many cars there I knew the patio area would surely have quite a few gentlemen enjoying drinks after a round of golf or while waiting to play. First thing I did after going inside was to walk through the patio area and make sure I didn't recognize anyone who knew me or my parents. Next, I made a trip to the ladies room to prepare. Then immediately heading to the snack bar, I bought a hamburger plate and a drink. With all the butterflies of anticipation swarming in my tummy I wasn't the least bit hungry, but carrying something to occupy my hands was part of my plan. As I walked up to the door leading out to the patio area carrying my tray, I caught sight of my own reflection in the glass in front of me. Usually, I wear my blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, but to appear as young and innocent as possible, this morning I had it up in pigtails. I had also chosen a light pink button down blouse, the same as those worn by the girls who attend a nearby church school. Of course, under my blouse I hadn't worn a bra, and anything but church-like, I had left more buttons undone than schoolgirl modesty could possibly allow. While getting ready in a stall the ladies room, I also employed a trick I'd devised for today's adventure based upon a wet t-shirt contest I'd seen in a spring break movie. Using a little, plastic spray bottle I'd put into my purse for exactly this purpose, I gently sprayed a light mist of water evenly across the front of my blouse. Not enough to make the fabric wet, but enough to make it slightly moist so my blouse would cling a little more tightly to the curves of my breasts and stick closely to my nipples.

Seeing myself in the glass as I walked up to the door and approached the point of no return filled me with that delicious blend of apprehension and anticipation I had to come to relish almost as much as the thrill I receive when I actually have my body out on display. With my hair in pigtails and my schoolgirl-ish pink blouse, I looked so young and innocent. Yet wearing my shorty, red and blue plaid wrap around skirt and with the outlines of my nipples slightly visible through the light, pink fabric and each tip standing up so stiff and pert, I didn't see myself as simply a sweet, young girl. I was saucy and sexy.

It was so excited actually to be going through with my plan! Adding to my thrill were the sensations I could feel from the fabric of my thin, see-through panties stretched so tightly up between my lips. Not only were my panties thin and skimpy, but while in the ladies room preparing to put my plan into action, I had tugged the waistband up over my hips so the almost sheer fabric wedged up tightly between my little lips. While I was in the stall, looking down and checking closely, it only added to my excitement to see the fabric had stretched up between my lips and not only disappeared between them completely, but plumped them up quite nicely. With my blond pubic hair and these virtually invisible panties, I felt sure that to anyone seeing me front on, it would appear almost as if I had on no panties at all! In back, there was nothing more concealing than a thong running up between my cheeks, so both sides of my bottom would be completely bare. With every step I took after leaving the ladies room, the silky cloth slipped up and down between my lips and over my little, pink rosebud, causing it to swell and tingle with the most delightful and almost breathtaking ripples of pure pleasure.

While holding my tray and walking towards the door, the sensations between my legs along with the knowledge of what I was about to do had my heart pounding and my excitement surging off the scale. My palms were clammy with anticipation as holding the tray with both hands, I used my elbow to push open the door, and by keeping my hip close to the handle as it began to close, the slightly oversized belt loop I'd sewn onto my skirt slipped over the handle and caught.

The skirt I'd chosen to wear for this adventure had a Velcro closure on the side instead of a zipper. I'd also modified the skirt by sewing on a slightly oversized belt loop. When I felt the loop catch on the handle, I hesitated for only a second as I marshaled my courage. Then I took an extra big step outside, and with a loud tearing sound the Velcro parted leaving my skirt hanging on the door handle behind me. As the door swung closed, I took another step out into the open air, and then to attract the attention of the men sitting all around me, I cried out as if panic. The moment all those eyes turned towards me, all at once I realized, here I am, I'm standing out in the open air on the patio with nothing more covering me below my waist than my skimpiest pair of panties.

Playing the role of the sweet and innocent young girl who finds herself caught in an embarrassing situation beyond her control, I stood frozen with fright. Yet actually, I was so excited and my heart was racing so fast, I wasn't frozen, I was on fire. It was beyond exciting when I stole a quick glance down and saw for myself that the lips of my pussy were openly exposed to the eager eyes of all those men staring straight at me. In that instant, time seemed to go into slow motion as I continued to play my part of being so panicked I simply had no idea what to do.

At a table directly in front of me and only a few feet away sat a group of at least five or six men all dressed in their golf clothes. A couple of them were much older, but most of them were around the same age as Mr. Taylor. Acting bewildered and taking a hesitant step closer towards their table as if I was going to ask for help, when I stopped only a few feet away I made sure to keep my feet set wide apart. Though I was almost beside myself with excitement, I had the presence of mind to lift my tray even higher to make absolutely sure each one of them had a clear and uninhibited view between my legs. Standing before them and looking into the faces of these men while they all looked at me, even those seated at other tables who had been sitting with their backs to me had turned around in their seats, and not a single one had his eyes anywhere higher than my waist.

I recall experiencing such an incredible rush when the thought came over me,

Here I am! I'm actually doing this!

Each one of these men who were lucky enough to be right in front of me were seeing a close up, and almost eye level view of my little lips, all swollen pink and plumped up by the thin strip of fabric tucked so tightly up between them. Continuing to feign helpless innocence, I turned around as though I was looking for my lost skirt. For a few delicious seconds I stood with my back to the men at the table, soaking in the excitement as I let them all enjoy a long and luscious look at my bare bottom. I even bent over, looking down around on the patio as though it might have fallen off. Of course, unable to locate my skirt even though I knew exactly where it was, I finally turned back around to face the man sitting closest to me and with a full front on view of my pussy. Still making no move whatsoever to cover myself because my hands were busy holding my tray up above my waist, when I focused on the gentleman sitting directly in front of me, I experienced a flood of pure molten excitement when I saw he had his eyes riveted between my legs.

I don't know how long I stood out there in the open-air letting every man on the patio get a really good look at me from the front and behind. Perhaps in reality it was only a few seconds, but with my adrenaline pumping and my heart racing, the excitement of the moment seemed to stretch into pure exhibitionist bliss. Yet my plan was still not quite yet complete. Suddenly fumbling and then dropping my tray, I stumbled forward. The man right in front of me stayed in his seat, but he did reach out with both hands as if to catch me. Stopping just out of reach, and now with nothing in my hands, I was treating each of the men at that table to a close up look at me appearing naked from the waist down.

"Oh no!" Using a frightened and trembling voice I'd worked on in anticipation of this moment, I looked not just at the man directly in front of me who was staring at my pussy, but to all of them. Acting as if I was so frightened I was on the verge of breaking out into tears, I pleaded, "I've lost my skirt. I don't know where it is, and I don't know what to do!"

Since I had stumbled closer, the man right in front of me still had never looked up and never taken his eyes off my pussy. He seemed lost in a daze, because it was the one to his left who got up and said, "Here, let me help you." Then he hurried around from his chair and knelt down to help pick up my tray.

In that instant, I had the presence of mind to turn so that now he was only inches away and at eye level with my plumped up little lips. He'd picked up the tray, but unable to keep from staring at my pussy he fumbled it and actually ending up sending it skittering off to the side. At this moment, my thill was beyond anything I had imagined possible. If the man kneeling before me he had been so bold, he could have reached around and grabbed me by my bare butt and buried his face between my legs. I don't know what I would have done if he had thought to do that, but even if he'd only given me a quick, little kiss I was so excited I would surely have had an orgasm right out there in front of everyone. As it was, I could have stood out there letting them all look at me forever, but the gentleman sitting off to my right pointed at the door behind me and called out, "Young lady, your skirt, I think it got caught on the door."

Trying my best to appear bewildered, even though I was more intensely aware than I had ever been in my life, I blinked back at him as if I didn't understand English. Then looking from one face to another, finally I let it dawn on me that I was in an embarrassing situation and should do something. Turning and hurrying back to the door, I made a pretense of fumbling with the handle so I could give all those men another long look at my bare bottom. Through the glass, I could see one of the waitresses who serves the patio area walking towards the door. Only a few steps away she stopped, looking at my skirt hanging from the handle rather than at me standing outside. As I saw her reach for my skirt, experiencing a sudden surge of adrenaline fueled excitement, the thought flashed in my mind

What if she takes it? I might have to turn around, walk back over to those gentlemen at their table, stand before them and calmly ask if one of them would be willing to help me.

To have the excuse to do such a thing would have been the sweetest icing on any cake ever.

Through the glass, I saw the waitress slip the belt loop off the handle, and then appear confused as she held up my skirt trying to figure out exactly what this piece of cloth was. Yet when she looked past it and finally saw me standing outside appearing entirely bare from the waist down, witnessing the realization of my situation come over her face provided me with yet another entirely unexpected thrill. I had never flashed another female before, and seeing her see my pussy and then seeing the panic come over her, I imagined she must be thinking

OMG, what if it was me standing out there without my skirt!

Carrying her order pad in one hand and my skirt in the other, I stepped quickly backwards as she came through the door. Totally unplanned, the back of my heel tripped on the tray. Being athletic and running hurtles on the track team; it would have been easy for me to catch myself and stay on my feet. Yet thinking quickly and seizing the moment, I allowed my knees to buckle, and then fell back plopping down on my bottom. Acting as though I had actually lost all control, I let my shoulders continue all the way back so I was lying on the patio with everyone looking down at me. It was sheer audacity to do it, but as I lay there, slowly I let first my right knee and then my left knee fall to the sides. Because the thin strip of fabric ran so tightly up between my lips, I was allowing all these men looking down at me to see every bit of me up between my legs as clearly and as openly exposed as if I had on no panties at all.