Jaime's Fun

Jaime nervously tapped her foot against the bar, her green eyes piercing the musty haze of cigarette and cigar smoke. She hadn't expected the bar to be so crowded – and dingy. She discreetly pulled at her tight, black spandex skirt – careful that it did not rise so high to reveal her garter belt – and took another sip of Chardonnay. She eyed her watch, wondering if Greg would ever arrive.

Jaime knew it had been a mistake from the beginning, all of this chatting and emails and messaging during work. Sure, secretarial life was boring, but chatting during office hours could get her fired. However, after hours, as she finished a company memo, she saw a small box on her screen:

Voyg28: "ASL, sugar?"

Normally Jaime would ignore a box like that. However, something about his name and personal manner intrigued her. So, she responded. 24, f, NY, so on and so forth. They chatted a bit, on general terms, for a few weeks. Greg (or so he said) was amiable and kept her mind of the drudgery of life – a lonely apartment with an old gray cat, occasional and rather dismal sex with a coworker in Copy, dinner with Mom on the weekends. He worked at a mid-level law firm handling claims settlements; he lived in a small apartment with a goldfish, he caught his girlfriend of two years in bed with her manager.

Jaime began to look forward to Greg's messages and occasional emails. About a month later, she was working late again, and she eyed the familiar screen name:

"Have you ever thought about displaying your body in public?"

Jaime was taken aback. Greg had never even discussed sex with her before, at least not in such an obtrusive manner. She responded, "Well – no, I guess not really. Why?"

"Sorry… I'm drunk. My ex and I would go out sometimes, and I would have her put on a little show. It turned me on so bad… she was so sexy when she'd slip her breast out of her shirt. Fuck. Sorry."

"Oh, it's ok. I just – I guess it never occurred to me," Jaime replied. "Sex has always been, well pretty normal."

"*Laugh* Well, there's nothing wrong with exhibitionism. I mean, the body is art to be seen and enjoyed. You should try it sometime."

Jaime laughed lightly and said goodnight, but left work with an uneasy feeling. What would it be like to show off in public? Would anyone even notice? She stepped into the elevator and glanced at her reflection. She was shapely, not extremely thin, but toned. She slid her hands carefully down over her rounded hips, staring at her toned thighs and calf muscles. She was somewhat tall, 5'9, but her frame was supportive, taking away any gawky awkwardness. She shrugged her long golden-brown hair behind her shoulders and blinked her emerald eyes at the reflection before her. Slowly, she moved her hands back up her body, across her flat stomach, button by button, to her 36 D breasts. She passed her hands across them, gently, and then cupped them, lightly. Jaime always had a sense of pride about her breasts, their round shape and slightly elongated nipples. She sighed softly as she tweaked each nipple through her clothing, closing her eyes for only a moment.

Without warning, the elevator opened as the bell clicked. Jaime's eyes flashed open just in time to see a middle-aged man in a cleaner's uniform step to the elevator. He stopped dead, staring at Jaime holding her breasts in her hands. His eyes grew wide and he flushed slightly. Jaime, frozen only a moment, quickly removed her hands. She felt his eyes burn into the back of her head as she walked toward the parking lot.

She slammed the door to the car and put her head in her hands. Jaime had never felt so embarrassed – and thrilled! She knew the cleaning man was enjoying what he saw, and she was damp because of it. Was this the sort of thrill that Greg was talking about? She started the car and headed home.

She put work in the back of her mind as she clicked onto messenger the next day, seeking out Greg to answer the questions that had haunted her through the night. As he logged on, she typed:

"What did your girlfriend do that you liked so much?"

"What? Oh. Well, we'd go to a bar that we'd never been in before and sit at a table, not in the middle of the joint but not really in the corner, either. We'd move the table slightly so that people in the house could see her full body without looking hard. We'd drink – she'd have shots to get up the courage. As soon as she was ready, she'd hike her skirt, slowly, and spread her legs. Generally she'd only be wearing a thong, if that. I would slide my hand into her shirt to release her breast, or play with it. As the night wore on, men and women would both watch… she'd open her lips sometimes, or slide a finger inside, and watch everyone watch her. She'd get so wet. We'd go home and fuck like animals."

Jaime was stunned. Her legs felt weak from imagining her own legs spread like that in a bar. "And you never got jealous?"

"No, I knew she was going home with me. It turned me on that other people were so turned on. Of course, that's before she started fucking somebody else."

"Yeah."

There was a pause on Greg's end. Then, a line "You want to try it, don't you?"

Jaime started typing and couldn't stop. She told him about the cleaner in the elevator and how wet she was, and the adventure and thrill she got from knowing that someone was turned on seeing her touch herself, even if it was just through her clothing.

If she could just have one chance…

"Well, you could, you know. We could go someplace, and nobody would know you. If you are brave enough, it would be the adventure of your life."

Jaime froze. I could meet him, she thought – I really could. No one would ever know. I mean, I would be seen – but, that's the thrill. She crossed her legs to keep the wetness from seeping out of her folds.

"Alright, where and when?"

Jaime looked around again, and watched a man walk in the door of the bar. He walked up and ordered. "Red-headed slut." It was a joke, and her way of knowing that it was Greg. She sized him up in a breath. He was tall, 6'2," with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Nicely dressed, fairly well built. He turned, noticed Jaime, and smiled.

She stood up and walked over to him, her Chardonnay shaking in the glass, making her anticipation and nervousness obvious. He smiled again and leaned in close. "You look fantastic," he whispered darkly. "Let's find a table."

Jaime followed Greg to a table at the side of the bar. He sat down and, softly taking her hand, guided her down beside him. He called the waitress over and ordered a glass of wine and a long island iced tea, smiling in Jaime's direction. Jaime looked over with a question in her eyes. Greg responded, "well, it's fast and good, you won't even know it." He slid his hand to her thigh and kissed her cheek softly. Jaime relaxed, and turned her head to meet another kiss. She knew it was going to happen.

She drank the highball quickly, already slightly dizzy from the effects of the Chardonnay. She felt Greg's hand slide higher in her lap, gently pressing against her mound. A few men walked by and stared in her direction. Jaime quickly moved away from Greg's touch, and then realized they couldn't even see his hand. She had dressed well for the occasion, a tight button down red shirt with a matching red lace bra; the mini skirt and black garters, and a red thong. He laughed gently, "Just relax. No one is forcing you into anything. Enjoy yourself. Let everyone enjoy you." Greg slid has hand back to her thigh and she opened her legs slightly. The waitress sat another drink down, and she took a long drink. She could feel the heat on her mons, and she was thankful she'd shaved before dressing, leaving only a tiny trail leading to her now moist pussy. She turned and looked at Greg, her head swimming slightly. "Alright," she whispered, "let's do it."

Greg grinned and gently slid the table to one side, leaving Jaime in full view of anyone walking by or sitting at the corner of the bar. She uncrossed her legs and parted them slightly. Greg's warm hand once again returned to her thigh, moving her skirt high, revealing the clips of her garter belt. "Settle back," he smiled, and Jaime rested her back against the chair, opening her legs even more. Greg took her hand and replaced it with his own, so that Jaime was actually moving her own skirt nearer and nearer to her waist. Greg's hand quickly slid to the first button on her shirt and released it, revealing the cleavage of her breasts, now firm and high with anticipation. Jaime's breath quickened, and she nodded slightly, and Greg undid a second button. Jaime's bra was in obvious view of all before her. The waitress walked over and replaced Greg's beer with another, and turned her head slightly in confusion, and then grinned.

"Let it all out honey, the boys will love it here" she cooed, and sauntered off.

Jaime was breathing heavy, her skirt pulled nearly to her waist. Her red thong shined despite the haze of the dimly lit bar, her wetness seeping through its thin satin material. She moaned softly as Greg eased his hand into her bra, his fingers gently caressing her nipple. Jaime heard him gasp and, turning her head down, saw a bulge forming in his pants.

"Your breasts are beautiful, sweets. Let's show everyone how beautiful they are."

Jaime moaned again as he released her left breast from the confines of the bra. She could hear her skin graze the material, and she knew her nipples were solid from Greg's touch. She glanced across the bar, nervously. Most of the patrons were to busy talking and drinking to notice- save one. An older, balding man, mid-50s, was gazing intently at her breast. He leered at her, tipped his beer, and slid his hand down to his own bulge.

"Ooooh" Jaime moaned and slid her hand across her thong, sliding to one side of her swollen lips. "Thatta girl, Jaime, show him your beautiful pussy. Slide a finger into your slit." And she did, gently touching her clit as she did so. Jaime shivered as she brought her finger to her mouth, inhaling the scent of her cum. Greg leaned over and tasted it, his hand now toying with the other breast.

"Mmmm, baby you taste so good, do it again."

Jaime eagerly slid her hands back down to her dripping pussy and open up the folds. She looked up at the man at the bar, joined now in conversation by their waitress. He was sliding his hand up and down his cock through his jeans as Jaime slid a finger, and then two into her waiting pussy.

"That's it baby, show them all. Pull those lips open."

She threw her head back, her breasts bobbing gently, as she spread her lips. Her pleasure was visible as juices ran down her pussy onto her parted thighs. She slid a finger inside, deep inside, feeling the muscles of her pussy clamp down. She moaned, eyes closed, lost in the sensation pulling at her body.

"Oh god you are so hot, that's it, touch it, finger it, go on baby, finger yourself for me."

Jaime could barely hear Greg's requests as she slid her finger in and out of her parted pussy. Shock erupted at her right nipple as Greg leaned down and bit gently. She opened her eyes slightly and watched as the man at the bar unzipped his pants and pulled on his cock, breathing heavy, as her clit grew hard, and harder, red, and hot.

"Ohh god Greg, fuck yeah, oh god… I'm gonna, I'm gonna cum right now"

"That's it baby, ah you little whore, that's it, cum for me, cum on!"

"Ohhh," Jaime moaned, releasing wave after wave of cum, feeling her juices trickle down her thigh, the smell of her own sex wafting to her nose, inhaling deep as her clit pulsed, her muscles clamping down on the fingers she slid inside of her body.

Jaime opened her eyes to see the man shudder, releasing his own cum onto his hand and jeans. She turned to Greg, still shaking, and he smiled gently.

"Let's go to my place. Now."

This is my first story in third-person. Please leave feedback and let me know what you think about it. Positive feedback and votes will lead to a second chapter.