In my first story I told you about how I discovered that I enjoyed being seen. Well, this story happened just over a year later.
By then my boyfriend and I had been on another vacation and I had shown off again, topless on the beach, bikini bottom pulled into my bum cheeks to look like a thong or pulled low to uncover half my bottom whilst on a crowded beach and I had also shown off again on the hotel balcony. It was fun but didn't reach the excitement of our first time and as such doesn't warrant writing about. All it does for this story is confirm that Sean, my boyfriend, liked me to show off and I liked to be shown off.
I was still fairly tanned from our second vacation together when Rob, an old school friend of my boyfriend, starting turning up at our apartment.
Back in school Rob was one of those unfortunate teenagers whose hormonal changes brought with it bad odor, spots and sweat! Even before those teenage changes, my boyfriend told me he was not a popular kid, and he still wasn't now. Actually, he was not attractive at all, slightly flat footed and pudgy, bad skin and greasy hair, spoke with a slight stammer and almost never managed to say more than one syllable words to any girl. Whether he found them attractive or not, girls, to Rob, were from another planet.
He had become a regular visitor to the flat, as well as meeting him a few times at the pub, and even though he was becoming quite relaxed around me and managed to hold a few conversations with Sean while I was around I have to say he was just simply an unattractive guy with no personality.
Rob was an ugly duckling, destined to turn into a duck-billed platypus rather than a swan!
Rob and my boyfriend became "friends" because of geography. They lived close to each other but went to a school about 5-6 miles. My boyfriend was really good at sports and a bit of a school hero, Rob was prime material for bullying. So Rob used to 'hide' near the teacher on playground duty at the end of the day and wait for Sean to finish class, then Rob would latch onto him and walk to the bus stop, knowing no one would bully him if he was with Sean.
Since school Sean started playing bass in a rock band and Rob decided he wanted to do the same (I wondered if that was a bit of hero worship, trying to be like the boy that saved him from getting beaten up by the bullies). Anyway, Rob came to the apartment and had my BF show him some riffs and as time went on Rob became more comfortable with me being around.
I was in my mid twenties, 2 years older than Sean and Rob was a year younger, so that would make Rob about 21 and he still hadn't had a serious girlfriend, in fact I'm not sure he had ever had any. He would talk about a girlfriend but no one ever met her or saw him with her and if we were at the pub and talking to other girls he would sit in a corner eyes flitting up and down their bodies but not saying a word. In short nearly all the girls we spoke to said he creeped them out – looking at their bodies and never speaking whilst breaking out into a sweat if any of them showed cleavage or wore a short skirt. Soon women were thinking twice about coming to talk to us if Rob was in tow.
My boyfriend would just say that Rob was harmless and he would have a word with him and tell him to cool it.
Not long after Sean promised to talk to Rob about his pervy manner with girls, my boyfriend's band was playing a gig but I couldn't go, I can't even remember why, may be I didn't get off work early enough to travel with them, but that's not important. The thing was that Rob called at the apartment looking for Sean. Thinking back, I can't believe Rob didn't know that Sean's band was playing that night and so I would be on my own. In hindsight, I suspect he had really called to see me.
I invited him in. I didn't think anything of it, he was a constant visitor and although he still looked at me the same way he looked at the other girls he was so used to me that he seemed to get over his awkwardness and become more relaxed around me.
I was drinking wine, I'd already had a couple of glasses and so I offered Rob a glass and refilled my own. I wasn't going out so I had already taken my work clothes off and was wearing just my panties and a warm bathrobe with a tie around the middle, no buttons.
I bent at the waist to put my wine glass on the knee-height coffee table. This meant I had leaned forward to put the glass down, facing Rob and then lowered myself to the sofa. I looked across at Rob and I could see from his eyes that he must have had a very good cleavage view as I leant forward to put my glass on the low table. He was staring at my chest area and had almost shriveled into the back his chair. He was in full creep mode, just like he'd get in the pub when he was staring at the other girls.
I let it go and tried to make conversation, normal stuff, asking him what he had been up to, how his girlfriend was or how his job was going. Things I wasn't in the slightest bit interested in, but thought might just illicit a conversation from him, instead he reverted to a series of mono-syllabic responses. I quickly ran out of conversational openers and reached for my wine glass, leaning forward to do so.
Rob's eyes immediately became glued to my chest, to the slight swell of the bathrobe as it bowed out when I moved.
I looked down and noting that nothing was actually showing, well, perhaps just the slightest hint of cleavage, in fact, far less was showing than if I was dressed in a loose low V-neck T-shirt, and yet his eyes were intensely riveted to my chest, his dry lips welcoming the tip of his tongue as it poked out and slithered across his lips to lubricate them, which gave him an even more pervy appearance. I decided to confront him.
"Are you staring at my boobs, Rob?"
Rob's eyes showed panic, they sprang up to my face as if attached to a strong spring coil and he began a stuttering denial.
"Didn't Sean tell you to cool it with staring at girls' bodies?" I said, cutting him off in mid-stutter
"Er, yes." He said, turning red as he gazed at his feet that were uncomfortably tapping out a nervous rhythm on the carpet.
"You do know that no girl likes to be stared at in the way you stare." I continued "It makes them feel uneasy. You'd be much better off learning to look them in the eye and talk normally than to stare at their tits and not say a word!"
"yes, I-I know." He managed to say whilst holding his breath at the same time.
"So what's the problem?"
Talking was painful for him and after a lot of prompting from me and stuttering and blushing and gasping for air from him, I managed to find out that he had never seen a naked woman, in the flesh, not even topless, and that he couldn't help himself. He kept telling himself not to stare, but half the time didn't realize he was doing it. His frustration and fascination with women's flesh was just too overpowering for him.
Can you believe that I actually began to feel sorry for him! I told him that he should have come on vacation with us and seen all the topless girls on the beach.
His head jerked up showing interest in a subject at last. He stuttered a little as he asked me if a lot of women chose to go topless and I told him more were topless than weren't. Then he seemed to retreat into his shell and I wondered if he was trying to imagine a beach full of partially naked women, until he surprised me by suddenly asking me a direct question.
"D-d-d-did you, you know, g-go t-t-t-t-topless?"
I was taken aback by the question. I didn't know how to answer. If I said yes I knew he would be imagining me topless and I had only started the conversation to stop him looking at me as if he was undressing me, but here we were talking about my body and whether I showed it off to all and sundry on the beach in Europe. I should have just lied and said 'no' but somehow it didn't occur to me to lie, instead I tried to deflect the question by asking him if he had seen a tan line when he looked down my robe.
Why didn't I think that that was more personal and embarrassing than just saying 'yes?'
Rob shyly told me that he hadn't seen anything at all, the neckline had billowed, but not enough to see anything and it was an automatic reaction to look and he was sorry. Or at least, I think that is what he was trying to say.
He looked so weak and vulnerable that my heart went out to him. I don't mean I suddenly found him attractive or wanted to do anything with him, God, no! But I wanted to help him get past his awkwardness because I could tell that while it seemed like he was just letching disgustingly after the women he met, he was, in fact, the one suffering. He was desperate to have contact with the opposite sex, any contact. A talk, a wave, a smile ... he just didn't know how.
Perhaps the fact that I had already drunk over two glasses of wine without eating anything influenced my decision, but I decided to try to help.
I told him I was going to reach for my glass again and that I wanted him to look ONLY at my face.
I slowly leant forward to reach down for my glass. I was looking at the glass, my bathrobe and Rob, one after the other in quick succession. I was still covered and totally decent but Rob couldn't help himself he looked, no stared, at my chest, I cleared my throat dramatically as a reminder of where he was supposed to be looking and again his spring loaded eyes shot up to meet my eyes. I decided to hold my position, leaning forward to reach for my glass and while I was in that position, and had forced Rob to look at my face, said to him,
"See, you can look at my face, even when I lean forward."
Unfortunately, he couldn't. I was only halfway through my sentence when his eyes dipped down to my chest area and then back up to my eyes again.
I straightened up and laughed "well may be you can't!"
He muttered a sorry and cast his eyes down. I thought he was just looking down in a deflated attitude again until I realized that one of the sides of my bathrobe had opened and was showing some naked thigh. Again nothing outrageous, I wore mini skirts that showed more than I was showing now, but he couldn't take his eyes off of my leg.
"What are you looking at? I said firmly. Rob's eyes shot up again as he replied "nothing!"
"Were you looking at my legs?
"No!"
"The truth!"
He didn't answer but this time slumped back in the chair eyes downcast and definitely NOT seeing anything at all, this time he was deflated ... and defeated.
"Look Rob," I said, not sure what I was about to say, "you really have to try to get over your awkwardness around women or you will never get to see one naked. You just come across as a perv when you stare and refuse to talk, so no one will want to go out with you." I paused for effect. He remained shriveled in his chair, refusing to make eye contact with me.
"You're normally OK around me though, aren't you?" I asked.
He made some noises that I took to mean 'yes'.
"So what's different tonight? Is it because Sean's not here?" I asked. He shrugged "I want to help but you have to tell me what I can do to help."
