Confessions of a Fledgling Flasher

Confessions of a Fledgling Flasher

Part Four

Those who have read TCFF Parts One, Two and 3 are already aware a fan of my story, Snap Shot shared with me a uniquely personal glimpse revealing how she became an avowed and thoroughly uninhibited exhibitionist. For those who are unfamiliar with Jenny Lynn's story, this young woman sent me an email, asking me to help her reveal her true confessions in a style that would be 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 intimate 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 occurred remains very much her story. As with CFF parts One, Two, and Three, readers will discover this next chapter does not have any of the cliches or follow the usual chain of events found in many erotic stories. The reason why is Jenny Lynn's story is true to life and 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 editing it and putting it out there for you.

M. Millswan

We left for our weekend at the beach house rather late Friday afternoon as we all had to wait for Mr. Taylor to come home from work. As we drove, I sat in the back seat beside Kaylee with Mr. Taylor at the wheel and Mrs. Taylor in the passenger seat. Positively bubbling with excitement, Kaylee seemed to be talking nonstop. I was probably even more excited than Kaylee. Yet not wishing to let on and remaining quiet and only half-listening, at every opportunity I concentrated on the side of Mr. Taylor's face as he drove, all the while hoping he might be thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him.

Over the days before Friday arrived, it seemed as though I was unable to think of anything other than how close Mr. Taylor and I had come before Kaylee and her mother returned home unexpectedly and ruined everything. Both day and night channeling all my frustration into finally achieving my goal, I had planned and schemed over the almost countless ways to be alone with Mr. Taylor but make absolutely sure Kaylee and her mom remained entirely unaware.

From the moment Mr. Taylor greeted me at his front door after my parents dropped me off, to now with both of us riding in the car together, I would imagine Mr. Taylor must be an amazing poker player as he appeared to be an expert at disguising his emotions and keeping his thoughts to himself. Outwardly, he never gave even the slightest hint that I was anything more than a friend of his daughter who had come along for the weekend. Yet with so many lusciously juicy secrets between us, I knew Mr. Taylor well enough to be reasonably sure he was thinking about me as much as I was thinking of him... and hopefully, about us and the new secrets we would create whenever the opportunity might arise.

I found it strange when I finally spoke up and asked Mr. Taylor to turn on the stereo but learned Mrs. Taylor didn't like listening to music in the car. So, with nothing else to do, Kaylee and I occupied ourselves reminiscing about middle school memories and playing the alphabet game and I Spy. As the miles rolled by, something else I began to notice, which was very different than when my parents were in the car together, Mr. Taylor and Mrs. Taylor never seemed to speak to each other. Mrs. Taylor would occasionally say something to Kaylee and rarely if ever to me. Mr. Taylor mostly concentrated on the road, but Mrs. Taylor spent almost all her time staring out the window and keeping her thoughts, whatever they might be, to herself.

By the time we had endured the long drive and drove through the small town a few miles from where the beach house was supposed to be, it was quite late Friday night and very dark. Kaylee and I were pretty tired, but we immediately became excited when we pulled into the driveway, and the headlights revealed the beach house was even more amazing than Kaylee's aunt had said it would be. Out in front was a massive ship's anchor, and the landscaping included tropical palm trees and fiery-red fuchsia bougainvillea. Sitting high up off the ground on tall posts, the beach house was a large two story with four bedrooms and two decks, one up atop the roof like a giant crow's nest.

Every bit as excited as a pair of little girls on Christmas Eve, Kaylee and I wanted to stay up, sit out on the deck and watch the waves while listening to the surf crashing on the beach. Unfortunately, as long as I have known Mrs. Taylor, she'll be nice in a cold and formal sort of way, but she always seems to be crabby about something, almost as though she's always on the worst day of her period. For some reason treating Kaylee and me like we were little children who had stayed up past their bedtime, she insisted we change into our nightgowns and go straight to bed.

Despite Mrs. Taylor spoiling our fun, it was hard to let it get us down. After all, we had the long drive behind us and were finally here and eager and excited to enjoy the entire day tomorrow out on the beach. It also didn't hurt that the interior of the beach house was even more amazing than the outside. Even though Kaylee and I could have slept in separate bedrooms, while reminiscing during the long drive about all the fun we had during our sleepovers back when we were in middle school, we had decided to sleep in the same room together.

When I saw Mrs. Taylor go into the bedroom at the end of the hall, and Mr. Taylor go into another, thinking of how my parents always slept together, I realized how lonely Mr. Taylor must be. Feeling a little sad and sorry for him, I decided no matter what, somehow, someway, I was going to find a way to make him happy this weekend.

The seaside décor in the bedroom Kaylee and I chose to sleep in was perfect for two girls wishing to return to the days of middle school. The walls were a very feminine coral pink decorated with appliques of mermaids and dolphins frolicking in the waves and a matching bedspread and pillowcases. While I unpacked my bag, Kaylee went to the bathroom next to our room to change into her nightgown. It didn't take me long to unpack, and since Kaylee was still in that bathroom, I used the one down near the end of the hall to care of a few personal necessities and change.

To sleep in this weekend, I brought the same cute babydoll nightie made of a diaphanous material I had worn that unforgettable morning in kitchen with Mr. Taylor. It had a fairly low-cut neckline and was a shortie that came with a pair of frilly and very girlish bloomer-shorts meant to be seen when a girl reached up or bent over. Though I felt the bloomer-shorts were very cute and sexy and would always wear them when I wore this nightie at home, that is where I left them. I almost chose to bring another nightie, but this one offered so many possibilities to enjoy teasing Mr. Taylor with clandestine little peeks from the front and the back. Though the fabric wasn't quite see through, that sunny morning when I found Mr. Taylor alone in his kitchen, I had learned if I stood in the right place with the light off to my side, or even better directly behind me and was wearing nothing underneath, I could most definitely attract Mr. Taylor's undivided attention. Which was, after all, the main reason I was here, and an activity that not only never grew old, it only seemed to grow more and more exciting each and every time.

Perhaps Mrs. Taylor was in an extra crabby mood after the long drive, but she seemed quite stern about insisting Kaylee and I change into our nightgowns and go straight to bed. This was so very disappointing as I was eager to see Mr. Taylor's reaction when he saw me dressed in this nightie. Yet when I returned to the bedroom, it came as a very happy surprise when Kaylee told me we still needed to go out and give her parents a goodnight kiss. At my house, I hadn't given my parents a goodnight kiss since I was a little girl. Since legally, Kaylee and I were of the age that we were no longer considered children, it seemed a little strange to me that Kaylee and her parents would still do something like this. Yet I had to admit, I had been hoping while we were staying at the beach house, we might keep up Kaylee's family tradition, which was a big reason I brought the same babydoll nightie I had worn when I first gave Mr. Taylor a goodnight kiss neither one of us will ever forget.

We found Kaylee's parents in the living room. They were sitting apart in separate recliners on each side of the bay windows, which looked out onto the beach below. Clearly, a professional decorator had designed the beach house's seaside décor and purchased all the furnishings. The spacious living area resembled a vintage sailing ship with actual portholes for the picture frames. As a centerpiece on the dining table was an authentic deep-sea diver's brass helmet, and to the right of the bay windows stood a larger than life wood sculpture of King Neptune rising up out of the sea and holding his trident up in the air.

While Kaylee said goodnight to her father and leaned down to place a very daughterly kiss on the cheek, as I gave Mrs. Taylor a tiny peck on the cheek, I held one hand to my neckline to keep it from falling away and the other behind me to keep the back of my nightie from rising up so high Kaylee would see I had nothing on underneath. When Kaylee and I changed places, and I strolled over to Mr. Taylor who was so very intent upon watching my every move, my heart was positively pounding, and that deliciously queasy feeling down in the pit of my stomach had me on pins and needles in anticipation of perhaps a fresh opportunity to enjoy yet another round of our discreet, little,

peekaboo

game. Sitting up in the recliner and holding a glass of burgundy wine in his right hand, Mr. Taylor had already changed into his pajamas, and over them, he had on the very same red silk robe he had worn when I came over to exercise earlier this week. Positively percolating with excitement as we both looked into each other's eyes, I had the presence of mind to remember that night of my sleepover when I asked for a glass of warm milk, and Mr. Taylor and I enjoyed our first opportunity to have a few minutes all by ourselves.

"Oh, Mrs. Taylor?" When I turned and called out, Kaylee had just leaned down preparing to give her mother her goodnight kiss, but upon hearing me, Kaylee stopped, rose back up and turned around as all eyes focused on me. "I apologize for asking, Mrs. Taylor, because I know it's late, but I remember when I had my last sleepover with Kaylee, a warm glass of milk really helped me to relax and go to sleep. I'm still a little keyed up after the long drive and hoped... that is... if it's not too much trouble," eager to put into play the naughty, little plan that had popped into my mind when I saw Mr. Taylor in his robe, it was so very difficult to hide my excitement and sound sweet, daughterly and ever-so innocent, "might I ask for a glass of warm milk tonight before Kaylee and I go off to bed?"

Revealing just how eager I was to be alone with Mr. Taylor, I would have much preferred to ask for a glass of the wine like Mr. Taylor was drinking, as I absolutely loathe warm milk. Thankfully, my devious, little scheme worked out even better than I could have hoped as Kaylee immediately looked down to her mother for approval then back to me. "That's a great idea, Jenny Lynn! I would love a glass of warm milk. But I don't know where anything is in the kitchen. Mother, would you be willing to come with me and show me where I can find a pot and a couple of glasses?"

Without a word, Mrs. Taylor placed her glass of white wine on the table next to her recliner and pushing off with both hands on the armrests, she rose to her feet. "Come along with me, Kaylee. I haven't been in the kitchen yet, so I don't have any idea where anything might be, but we'll see what we can find."

Just like that, Mr. Taylor and I were all alone! Losing no time as I had no idea how long we had before they came back, I quickly stepped around from where I was standing at the side of the recliner and plopped my entirely bare bottom down on Mr. Taylor's lap.

"What are you doing, Jenny Lynn." Mr. Taylor kept his voice down to a whispered hiss. "Kaylee and Mrs. Taylor are just around the corner in the kitchen. They might come back at any second."

As usual when I was with Mr. Taylor, so much was happening so quickly, and I was growing to love the dizzying effect of snatching these clandestine moments together. Just like Mr. Taylor, I most definitely didn't want either of them to walk back in and catch me sitting on his lap. Yet aware he hadn't immediately ordered me to get up, throwing caution to the wind, I leaned in and kissed him not on the cheek but squarely on the lips.

For quite a while, I had been thinking and scheming about various ways to initiate our first kiss. Yes, when I had stripped off my leotard and was entirely naked down in his basement gym, he kissed and thoroughly pleasured the lips between my legs, but so far, not on the lips I use to show him my smile. Sitting on his lap being an entirely a spur of the moment thing, when the idea flashed in my mind that now the time was right, I thought I would only snatch a quick kiss and then whisper to him that I was eager to pick up where we had left off. Yet as I began to pull back, Mr. Taylor wrapped his free arm around me, pulled me to him and kissed me for real!

This wasn't the sloppy kiss of some young, teenage boy. Mr. Taylor was a very masculine and mature grown man. The fire of his passion as with his strong arm wrapped around me, he held me pressed closely to him, that he could make love to me with just his lips only served to prove it. For some reason ultra-aware of my bare bottom nestled down upon his lap, in a matter of a single heartbeat, a whirlwind of excitement swept me away. Yet I wasn't so dazed I didn't soak in every single second of his lips upon mine so deeply, even now as I write this, I can still recall every exquisite detail as vividly as if I were there now. The unbridled passion and hunger, the tell-tale taste of burgundy wine, the feeling of the masculine stubble of his beard against my soft skin, and once again, the lingering trace of the manly smell of his Old Spice aftershave.

Luckily, we somehow came back to our senses. The instant his lips left mine, I stood up and stepped back around to the side of the recliner only scant seconds before Kaylee and Mrs. Taylor walked back into the room.

"We don't have any milk, Jenny Lynn." For the first time giving me and my nightie a disapproving glare, Mrs. Taylor shook her head as she stopped, looked me up and down, and then walked past me and plopped back down in her chair. "We'll drive into town tomorrow morning and get some milk." She suddenly focused the anger in her eyes upon Mr. Taylor, as if that we had no milk was somehow his fault. "This is supposed to be an upscale and all-inclusive rental, and I was told we would have everything we needed."

As I stood there doing my best to appear so very innocent with my arms down and my fingers folded together in front of me, my nightie's fabric tickling the tips of my nipples every time I drew a breath made me aware of just how stiff and firm, they were standing up from the lingering effects of Mr. Taylor's kiss. When Mrs. Taylor turned her glare my way, I feared the scowl on her face might be more for me than that there wasn't any milk in the fridge. Sounding much more than simply put out, she was clearly fuming. "First thing tomorrow morning," she again fixed her eyes upon her husband, "I want you to call the rental company and lodge a complaint."

Just when I thought her anger was solely on the rental agency, as Kaylee walked up to stand beside her mom, Mrs. Taylor again spotted me in my nightie and turned the fire in her steely gray eyes back my way. "When we go into town tomorrow morning young lady, I want to find you a nightgown like the one Kaylee's wearing. I know your mother," she actually reached out and shook a finger at me, "and I'm sure she would agree with me that... that... that thing you have on is a bit sheer and skimpy for any proper young lady to wear."

"Oh, Mother!" Luckily, Kaylee spoke up in my defense. "You are always way too conservative about clothes... and pretty much... well... everything! I think Jenny Lynn's nightie looks just fine. In fact, I would love to have one exactly like it, except maybe pink instead of white. What do you think, father?"

As though for the first time he noticed I was standing here, Mr. Taylor twisted about in his recliner and gave me a quick and cursory glance up and down. Then turning back to Mrs. Taylor, I watched him swallow as he took an extra deep drink of wine. "As you know, dear, I don't know very much at all about girl's clothes. You're certainly the expert in that department, and I leave all the dresses, blouses and... well... well... you know... all those under things that girls wear entirely up to you. But from where I sit." Turning his attention away from Mrs. Tayor, he caused my heart to lodge up in my throat when he placed his thumb and forefinger to his chin and ran his eyes all over me, exactly as he had when I had stood completely naked before him. "I don't think I have a problem with Jenny Lynn's nightgown. You know dear, Jenny Lynn is not a little girl anymore, and I think what she has chosen to wear is entirely appropriate for a young lady her age."

OMG! When Mr. Taylor held his chin and fixed his eyes upon me, all the intimacies we had shared in his basement gym came flashing back, and my knees went weak, and I positively melted inside. The moment couldn't have lasted for more than a few seconds, and all the while he was taking me in with his eyes, Mrs. Taylor and Kaylee were watching us both. Yet I knew, absolutely knew that Mr. Taylor was remembering everything I was remembering. Somehow, the both of us managed to show no sign that might reveal in my mind, and in his, we were entirely alone, and reflected front, back and sideways in the mirrors on the basement walls, I was as naked as I could be and willing to do anything, absolutely anything at all he desired to ask of me.

"Well, I don't think Jenny Lynn's nightgown is appropriate at all." Mrs. Taylor twisted around in her recliner, so she didn't have to twist her neck to glare at me. "I thought this very same thing when she wore it the last time she slept over with Kaylee. We are going to be here all weekend, and I'm insisting we drive into town tomorrow morning, find a store and get her something more modest.

"No, Mother! Absolutely not!" Startling everyone with her outburst and resembling an angry two-year-old, Kaylee crossed her arms and stomped her foot. "I don't want to go to some stupid store and go nightgown shopping tomorrow! What I want, is to go to the beach!"

Mr. Taylor was quietly watching the exchange without saying a word or any noticeable change of expression. When finally, he broke his silence, clearly experienced dealing with his wife, though his tone was so very soft and patient, I could hear a trace of a hidden undercurrent of exhaustion and exasperation. "I think I might have to agree with Kaylee, dear. I'm sure you can't blame the girls for just wanting to have fun. Your sister was so kind to offer to let us use the beach house, and we only have it for the weekend, which leaves just tomorrow and Sunday for all of us to enjoy the beach. And I'm sure you'll agree, going to the beach is why we came here."

Her fists on her hips, Kaylee remained defiant. "Mother! I am not going shopping tomorrow for some stupid ol' nightgown nobody wants! I am going to the beach!"