How I Became an Exhibitionist

I first discovered exhibitionism in the basement of a bookstore. My brother, John, was browsing through the Film/TV section when I came up behind him and touched his arm.

'I'm done,' I told him. 'Are we going?'

He looked up and smiled. 'Did you get what you wanted?'

I held up the bag. In it was an Italian cookbook, with my promise to make John and his wife dinner that night. We ambled slowly to the stairs, pointing out different books on the way. I tend to buy books impulsively, even though I have a stack of them sitting unread on my bookcase at home. I put it down to my ever-changing mood, and the fact that I don't know what I'll want from one day to the next.

At the top of the first set of steps was a small landing, where they'd placed a couple of display racks of postcards, gift-type books and those magnetic poetry kits. We stopped to have a look. John was laughing at some mini joke book, when I began to get the feeling that I was being watched.

I glanced casually back down at the basement. A young guy who worked at the store was putting out some audio books, just below the stairs. When I looked down at him, he quickly averted his eyes and started pretending to examine the tape in his hand. At first I didn't think anything of it. People stare at other people all the time, and, without wanting to sound conceited, I've noticed a few men giving me plenty of second looks.

I started flicking through the postcards, when I felt eyes on me again. I looked back at the young guy and caught him staring in the same way. I was just starting to enjoy the flattery when I suddenly realised that I was wearing a pretty short skirt. It was a hot day so I had worn something airy, and my freshly-shaven legs were bare. I figured out that from where he was standing, the young guy had an excellent view straight up.

I was a little surprised at first, more by my reaction than what the guy was doing. I should have been mortified and quickly gone up the second flight of stairs and out of the store. But I wasn't embarrassed at all. I paused for a moment and went back to flicking the postcards.

I let him look.

Maybe it was because he was cute, but I definitely got an instant thrill from knowing that I was on display for him. Everyone else was just browsing and buying books as normal, with no clue that I was showing off so intimately to a complete stranger; he the voyeur, and I the exhibitionist. There was something simple about it that made sense to me.

John looked at me as if he was ready to go. I hesitated.

'Did you want to find something for dad?' I asked. 'His birthday's on Saturday and you still don't have anything.'

'Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. It means going up to the second floor.'

I twisted my face a little.

'Well, I won't be too long,' said John. 'How about I just meet you down here in five?'

John disappeared upstairs. I looked discretely back down into the basement. My lovely peeper was still there, putting some stickers on some of the tapes. I turned my head a little so that I could still see him from the corner of my eye. When I could tell that he was looking again, I moved slightly in his direction, and stood with my legs just a little further apart. He stopped applying stickers. His hands were still. I had his complete attention.

Making sure there was no one else at the bottom of the stairs, or anyone coming up them, I slowly bent down and looked at something on the bottom of the rack in front of me. My little skirt slid up my thighs even more. I was wearing a thong that day; white lace. I suddenly imagined that I was a pole-dancer up on stage, bending low for the horny young man beneath me. Below, I heard him dropping the tapes to the floor with a clatter. I glanced down and saw him frantically picking them up.

With a smile to myself I picked some random item from the rack and straightened up. He'd had a good look at my ass, so I decided to give him the alternate view. I turned so that I was facing him dead-on, but never actually looked at him directly. Someone came down from the ground floor and walked past me. I waited until they were gone then pulled my skirt up very slightly with one hand, stopping short of anything that would look too indecent to the casual onlooker. My heart was thumping hard. I'd never done anything like this before, and I wasn't sure what had come over me.

My young man, of course, had a wonderful view. I pictured what he would be able to see from where he was standing: The straps of my heels clinging tightly to narrow ankles that led up to my shapely calves; the long, smooth expanse of my thighs; the tiny, white triangle of lace that barely covered my pussy. I imagined his heart beating fast like mine, his hands shaking, his stiff cock pressing against the confines of his jeans.

I was getting so wet. I began to wonder what dirty fantasies he was having about me. Did he want to put his head up my skirt and go down on me? Put his fingers inside me? Or did he want to bend me over the banister and rip my thong off in one sharp, violent motion, so that he could put his desperately hard cock in my slippery cunt?

I felt the danger. Someone could have come up the stairs any second and they would have seen; would have known what a slut I was being. If there hadn't been so many people around, I would have shown him more. I would have pulled my panties aside and let him see my damp slit.

I was thrown off when John suddenly reappeared beside me.

'Okay, now I'm definitely done,' he said.

'Great.' I tried to stay calm, but I could feel that I was blushing.

'Do you want to look at anything else?' John asked.

I decided that it was time to end my little show. 'No. Let's go. I have to get things started for dinner tonight.'

I let my skirt drop and walked nonchalantly upstairs with John, never looking back. I was so hot, yet slightly afraid. I'd never had this urge to show off before, and my head with spinning at the thought of what I'd just done. It was naughty, slutty, yet utterly exhilarating. And what struck me most was the feeling of control, of having power over a man like that. I showed him as much as I wanted him to see, and no more. It was a rush that I wanted to feel again, and soon.

*

The next day was another scorcher, and I was working from home. By the afternoon I had pretty much finished everything I needed to do, so I decided to go out; just see what happened. I knew that I was going to try it again. It had been on my mind the whole morning, and as I went upstairs to change I was so excited I could barely think straight. I stripped out of my sweats and T-shirt, my standard working-from-home outfit, and opened my closet. I had already decided what to wear before I'd even got upstairs. I took the little summer dress off the hanger and held it up against myself in front of the mirror. I hadn't worn it since the year before, but I was sure it would still fit.

I took off my underwear and stepped into the dress. It was loose-fitting but tight around the bust, and didn't quite come down to my knees. There were five buttons down the front. I left the top three undone. I sat down on the bed and looked at myself in the mirror. My long, pale legs were very much on display, and as I opened them a little, I got a flash of my bare pussy under my little dress. My long, red hair sat on my shoulders in thick waves that led the eye naturally downward to the peaks of my small, pert breasts. I held my shoulders back, pouting at my reflection, then realized what was missing. I took a glossy lipstick from my dresser and applied it slowly and evenly. When I'd pressed it into my lips my look was finally complete. I felt sexy, and I was ready to show off again.

I'm not sure why I decided to drive to the mall. I guess because it was public enough that I could be safe, but still busy enough to provide me with opportunities to show off. Once I was inside the mall, I became acutely aware that I wasn't wearing anything under my dress. I never leave the house without underwear, and it was a little scary to think that this thin summer dress was all that stood between complete strangers and my nakedness.

The cool, climate-controlled air made my nipples hard. Looking down it was so obvious, and it gave me an idea. I went into a store that sells cosmetics and bath oils. I shop there often, and there's this one really cute guy who works there. He's a little young for me to date, but not for some harmless fun. I found him in the third aisle, shelving some men's deodorant.

'Excuse me?'

He looked my way, and I could immediately see from his face that I had chosen the right outfit that day.

'Can I help?' he smiled.

I smiled back. 'Do you have any body moisturisers?'

He took me to them. Of course, I already knew where they were. Pretending to be interested in a bottle on the bottom shelf, I knelt down to pick it up. From where he was standing, I knew the assistant had a very nice view down the front of my dress. I read the back of the bottle in my hand. He didn't move.

'So, is there anything in particular you're looking for?' he asked.

I've noticed that male shop assistants almost always give pretty women extra attention. I guess that's why I started experimenting by teasing them. It's the service aspect; the fact that they're there to help and be polite. Let them look down your dress and watch them stumble over themselves to get you anything you want.

'Actually,' I remained where I was, looking up at him with my best innocent expression, 'I'm looking for something I can put on after a shower. Something that will keep my skin nice and soft.'

He gulped. 'Well . . . any of these can be put on after a shower, or a bath.' He was starting to blush. It excited me even more.

'So,' I said, leaning forward ever-so-slightly more, 'would you recommend that I have a quick towel-dry, then apply the moisturiser to every part of my body? I mean, before I get dressed?'

He could surely see my nipples by now. He was trying hard but, bless him, he just couldn't keep his eyes on my face. 'Er . . . That sounds about right,' he fumbled.

I decided to let him off the hook. 'Well, thank you so much . . .' I read his name tag, 'Robert. You've been a big help. I may come back later and buy one of these.'

'No problem,' he said, beaming like a hot coal.

I gave him one last smile and left the store. When I got outside I was shaking again from the thrill and excitement of what I'd just done. It was the fact that it was so obvious to both of us, yet not so that we could actually acknowledge it. I was sure that by acting perfectly naturally, you could get away with quite a bit. Who would risk owning up to looking down your dress, and who would dare accuse you of showing off on purpose? As long it wasn't too blatant, you could always feign innocence.

I got onto the escalator without really thinking. I was still buzzing from what I'd just done, and what I might do next. I guess it was that adrenaline that put the next thought in my mind. As I was standing on the long escalator going up. Behind me, a few steps down, was an older guy, maybe late-fifties. I glanced back and caught him looking at my legs. Almost instinctively I bent over and pretended to adjust one of my heels. My dress rode up a little. As I levelled out at the top of the escalator, the bottom of my bare ass and pussy lips were on show to anyone below. I stood up again – just a brief flash this time – and went on my way. I didn't acknowledge the guy. I wanted him to think he'd just got lucky.

My mind was on my next stop, a clothing store I don't frequent that much. It's a big one, never too full on weekdays, and there are many little places where a girl could do things without being seen. I stood outside, pretending to look at the clothes in the window. What I was really looking for was the hot young sales clerk I'd seen there in the past. I spotted him come to the checkout to serve someone. With a little flutter of excitement in my stomach I went in and browsed casually through the racks of summer clothes. I had no idea what I was going to do yet, and that was half the fun. Then an idea began to glow inside me.

I went over to the lingerie section. They had some nice undies, and not too expensive. I picked through the various styles: lace thongs, cotton bikini panties, lycra shorties. Then I settled on my choice, a pair of black satin low-rise panties with a matching demi bra. Perfect. I picked them off the rack and looked around for the changing rooms. As I went inside my breasts were already tingling. I chose the first cubicle I could see. Once I was in, I left the door just slightly open. There was a mirror on each wall, and from where I was standing, looking in the mirror to my left, I could clearly see the through the gap in the door to the area just outside the changing rooms. Which meant, of course, that anyone standing out there could also see me.

There was no one there at first, so I waited. After a minute, a woman came past my cubicle and into another, carrying a pair of jeans. Waiting outside for her was a man I presumed to be her husband. He looked to be in his early forties, tall, quite good looking. He was shuffling about, looking bored, carrying bags from other women's stores in the mall. Poor guy, being dragged around by his wife while she tried on clothes. I decided to give him a treat.

I began to move around a little, hanging up my bag on one of the hooks and checking my hair in the mirror. The movement caught his attention, and I noticed him stop pacing. I didn't look at him directly, but I could see him as clearly as I knew he could see me. To start with, he looked away, but his eyes kept returning to my image in the mirror. He couldn't help himself.

I slowly pushed the straps of my dress down. My nipples were stiff again, and with my thighs pressed together I could feel how wet I was getting. I eased the top of my dress down, giving him a little glimpse of my breasts, before turning my back. I couldn't see if he was still watching, but I was willing to bet on it. I hooked my thumbs into the waist of my dress and slid it down my thighs, uncovering my pert butt. I made a big show of bending right down until the dress was around my ankles. Then I stepped out of it and hung it up over my bag.

The lingerie was on the bench beside me. I picked up the bra first and turned back to face the mirror. I took my time fastening the bra round my waist, then I slid it round and pulled it up to hook the straps over my shoulders. When both breasts were contained, I held them and gave them a lift. Nice fit. I lingered there a moment, gazing at myself stroking my breasts through the black satin, my red pubic hair on full display. I could see the man still watching. I wondered if his mouth was hanging open.

Next I took the panties and stepped into them, one deliberate leg at a time. I pulled them up my thighs until they were nestled snugly against my pussy. They felt good, nice and close. My mouth was dry as I pretended to inspect the front of the panties, rubbing the soft material that covered my clit. Then I turned around and inspected the back in the mirror, a hand on each buttock, gently caressing.

When I'd given him a look at all angles, I pulled the tags from the lingerie, took my dress from the hanger and stepped back into it. Then I grabbed my bag and left as though I had no idea anyone was watching. When I passed the man outside I didn't even look him in the face, though I could tell he was staring at me. I imagined how hard he must be, and how much he wanted to slip into my cubicle and touch me all over; how much his cock ached to be inside me.

I approached the checkout and stood behind the woman being served by the hot young man I'd been waiting to see. He was wearing a white shirt that clung nicely to his body. He had a good shape; a swimmer's build. I was so hot by then, I couldn't stop myself from picturing his naked chest, and how I would flick his nipples with my tongue while I slowly reached down inside his pants . . .

'Who's next, please?'

His smooth voice and dazzling smile brought me back to reality. I suddenly felt fear again, but it was the good kind. As calmly as I could, I walked up to the counter and smiled back at him. He waited for me to say something. There were no eyes on us at that moment, so I lifted the front of my dress and showed him my panties.

'I'll be wearing these home,' I said, casually, as though I'd just bought a pair of shoes. I let the dress drop. 'There's a matching bra, too. Here are the labels.'

I put the labels and security tags down on the counter. His eyes were wide, but he did his best to maintain his composure.

'Certainly, Ma'am,' he replied, scanning the labels.

I paid, keeping my eyes on his the whole time, then gave him a little wink as I left. Walking away, I was sure he was staring at my ass, mentally undressing and fucking me. I left the store and headed back for the escalator. I was so aroused I could barely think straight. I needed to come, and bad. When I got back to the car, I slipped into the seat and locked the door. I was on the third level of the multi-storey, and I didn't see anyone around. God, I wanted to touch myself.

I tilted back my seat a little, then checked around one last time to see if the coast was clear. I was sandwiched between two cars, pretty well hidden, and the place was deserted for now. I lifted the front of my dress and gently stroked myself through my new panties, burning down there, and desperate to get off. I eased them down, noting the damp patch on the crotch; I'd had no choice but to buy them now that I'd got them so wet. I dragged them over my ankles in the cramped space and dropped them on the passenger seat.

The air on my hot pussy felt good, but my fingers felt even better. I rubbed my slit, spreading my juice up and down. Usually I like to take my time masturbating, but I was so desperate, and I was aware that I could be caught any moment. I went to work on my clit, rubbing it in tight circles. It felt exquisite. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, remembering how I'd shown off like a slut. I thought about how much those men had wanted me, and how I'd teased them and got them hot. I imagined how they might go home that night and jerk off, thinking about my ass, and my breasts, and my tight cunt just waiting to be fucked.

I moaned, grinding my hips against the seat as I felt those wonderful, familiar sparks begin to build in my clit. I reached down with my other hand and put a finger inside myself, curling it upwards and moving it back and forth. My legs were open as far as I could get them, with one knee against the steering wheel and the other against the door. My nipples felt more sensitive than ever, and my skin began to take on that electric quality that it does when I'm getting close to orgasm.

I added a second finger inside my wet slit, waggling them up and down as I rubbed my clit more frantically. I got closer, and closer, until finally I bit my bottom lip as I started to come.

'Ooooooohhhhh . . .'

I rode the sensations, my pussy throbbing around my fingers. I had to ease off my clit when it became to much, then I touched it again, triggering a second, smaller orgasm that took my by surprise. I was out of it for a little while, then I came back down and revelled in the feeling of total relief that flooded through me. I was slightly shocked by how hard I had come; and twice! Showing off seemed to get me hotter than anything had in a long time, and I was eager to take it further.

When I opened my eyes, I immediately noticed the man standing next to my car. He was frozen, his keys in the door of his car, his hand on the keys, his eyes on my soaking wet snatch. I jumped in my seat, closing my legs. He seemed to snap out of it, and he looked me in the eye. I was glad I had the door locked. He quickly fumbled with his keys and managed to open his door. He was in his car and driving away in seconds.