This is a true account of an experience of mine from a few years ago, when I was still at University and starting to expand my sexual activities in all sorts of interesting ways. Among these, I'd developed an interest in the idea of exhibitionism, inspired by chatting quite a lot online to people about our sexual fantasies, and getting quite excited at the thought of exposing myself in public. At first, I'd explored these fantasies in erotic fictions, often including open-air sex and dare games involving flashing. The process of writing these used to got me incredibly aroused and excited, and soon I realised that just writing about my fantasies wasn't enough; I needed to put them into practice.
One of my old boyfriends had told me how much he used to enjoy up-skirt/down-blouse experiences, when he'd get a glimpse up a girl's skirt or down her top, revealing more flesh than she intended. He'd try and persuade me to undo buttons on my shirt, or sit with my legs apart showing my panties, and whilst I'd usually refuse, I'd sometimes fantasise about having men catching me like that. But now I'd become more excited by the idea, and I made up my mind that one day I'd go out and actively try to expose myself like that. And I wanted to take it a step further - to go out without any underwear at all, so people would get a real glimpse of my breasts or pubic area.
One good thing about living in a big city like London is that there are plenty of opportunities for getting close to lots of people. I wondered at first whether I should try walking around one of the parks or big department stores, where I could bend or lean over quite naturally, but decided in the end that I'd try exposing myself on public transport. As anyone will know who has been on them, London's trains, buses and tubes are often crowded; not only during the morning and evening rush hours, but also during the day, when the tourists take over. As well as increasing the opportunities of people seeing me, I decided that in fact I'd be much safer in broad daylight, in a crowded space with lots of people. I didn't want to get dragged into a corner by some over-excited voyeur and assaulted.
I also had to decide what to wear, which wasn't as easy as it sounds. I wanted something that didn't make me look obviously slutty, but rather needed to be capable of adjustment so I could show a little or a lot, and that I could manipulate in a natural way, so everything would look accidental. In the end, for my top I chose a nice loose white blouse with buttons down the front, so I could undo as many or as few as I wanted. And to go with it I found a discreetly sexy short skirt, which hung well above the knee, about halfway down my thighs, and looked even shorter when I was sitting down. It had a kind of wrap-round design with a slit up the side, so when I crossed my legs I showed a nice piece of bare leg right up to the top of my thighs.
Before I went out for the first time, I practised quite a lot sitting on the edge of my bed in front of the wardrobe mirror, crossing and uncrossing my legs, practising letting the skirt ride up my legs, and seeing how much could be seen if I "accidentally" opened my legs a little. I discovered that, without panties, I could show as little or as much of my pussy as I wanted. I got myself quite horny doing this, and ended up fingering myself to orgasm - which I wouldn't be able to do on the tube, sadly.
I also practised with the buttons down the front of the blouse. The material was thick enough so my bare breasts didn't show through it too obviously (I wasn't going to wear a bra, of course) and the neck-line was quite high with all the buttons done up, so I looked reasonably demure. However, if I undid a couple the front began to gape a little, showing off the tops of my tits. If I leant over a little, it hung open even more; and with a couple more buttons undone, anyone peeking inside would get a full view of my exposed mounds, little pink nipples and all. Just thinking about it made my nipples start to get hard, and I couldn't resist tweaking them with my fingers to make them even harder.
The most frustrating thing was waiting for a hot sunny day, so I could go out and mix with all the other casually-dressed tourists in central London, my sexy outfit not standing out unless you looked closely. Of course, the start of July was decidedly cool, even rainy, so I had to wait frustrated until the right sort of weather.
At last, during the first few days of August, the weather took a turn for the better. The first weekend was lovely, and the forecast for Monday and Tuesday was even better. So, on Monday morning, I had a quick shower, and slipped on my blouse and skirt. It felt good without underwear, especially on this warm day. I undid a couple of buttons, just to get my titties used to feeling loose and exposed; I'd undo another when I was ready to get on the tube.
I decided to try the Central Line, which was handy for where I was living and includes a very busy stretch between the City in the east and the shopping streets of Oxford Street and Regent Street in the other direction. That way, it tends to get full of both City workers and tourist shoppers, and can get very crowded, which was what I wanted. I got on one of the eastbound tubes at Holborn, heading towards Liverpool Street.
The tube was crowded, and I knew that with three buttons undone anyone looking down my front would get a pretty good view of my tits, with their dark pink areolae and perky nipples. I squeezed in and took hold of a support rail. There were people all around me, men and women, some of them tourists clutching maps, others presumably dressed for work, carrying briefcases and handbags. I was excited and looking forward to giving someone a flash of my breasts, but frustratingly I wasn't sure whether anyone had seen anything yet. I glanced down inside the top of my blouse, and the view was there if anyone wanted it. But everyone seemed preoccupied; perhaps this wouldn't be so easy after all. I wasn't quite sure what I'd expected - or even wanted. I suppose I wanted to be sure that someone really had been ogling my breasts. Then again, it was a bit hard to tell in such a crowd whether someone behind me was enjoying the view anyway.
The tube travelled several stops, people getting on and off, squeezing past me. When it got to Liverpool Street, I decided to get off and go back in the other direction. Loads of people piled on, so it was quite a squash. I was so tightly squeezed against the back of some guy in a suit that my blouse was pressed shut anyway! But a few people got off at St Paul's, and I managed to wiggle it open again not too obviously. Then we were back at Holborn again, and I actually caught one guy's eye as he squeezed past me to get off - and I'm sure by the look on his face and the direction of his gaze that he got an eyeful. He looked back at me as the doors closed; probably wishing he'd stayed on for another stop! That was more like it.
