It's only girls who are hot blondes with full figures and big tits who can be exhibitionists, right? Wrong! I'm proof that it's wrong. I'm 5'3", ninety one pounds, skinny, with A cup tits, but I'm still an exhibitionist.
I didn't know that about myself for a long time—many years, in fact.
All through Jr. High and High School, I heard all of the insults and teasing about being "Flattie", "Fried Eggs", "Tom Boy", and every other tease and insult you can imagine.
By the time I went off to college, I'd had a total of one boyfriend. Of course, I was in the fourth grade at the time. Steve Gray held hands with me in the hall, sat with me in the school cafeteria, and walked me home after school. I was more comfortable back then because none of my female classmates had boobs either, so I fit right in.
Through Jr. High and High School, I did everything I could do to hide my body. I wore padded bras, and even stuffed those with tissues. I didn't go to public swimming pools or shower in the gym after P.E.
Oddly enough, it was an 'out of the closet' lesbian that drew me out of my shell. That started the second day after moving into a dorm room with her.
Shelly was a hoot. She kept me laughing all the time. She was a rather chunky girl with big boobs. It was inevitable that she'd see me naked sooner or later, and that happened the evening of our second day rooming together.
I'd just stepped out of the shower, totally unaware that she was sitting on the toilet having a pee. I hadn't locked the door, and she hadn't announced herself when she came into the bathroom.
"Sorry, I couldn't wait." She apologized.
Outwardly, I tried my best to take her intrusion in stride, but inside, I was freaking out, especially when she said, "God, I'm soooooo jealous of your sleek, sexy body."
"Yeah, right!" I shot back at her.
"No, I'm serious. I'd trade bodies with you in a heartbeat. Of course, I wouldn't try as hard to hide it as you do . . . and I'd do my hair differently."
My tone was a little more sarcastic than I intended when I said, "If you're hitting on me, I'm not buying what you're selling. I'm not gay."
While Shelly was drying herself and flushing the toilet, she laughed, "Girl, I'm just stating a fact. Trust me, if I was hitting on you, you'd know it."
I was in my heavy flannel pajamas and standing in front of the mirror when Shelly finished her shower and came out of the bathroom. I was fingering my shoulder-length black hair, "What did you mean about my hair?"
"You're too slender to wear your hair long. You should wear it really short."
"I look too much like a boy as it is. If I cut my hair, I'll have to start using the boy's bathroom."
She laughed out loud, "No, not at all, Vic. You're soooo wrong about that. Of course, you'll have to make a little adjustment to your wardrobe too. I can help you with that—your hair and your wardrobe. We can start after classes tomorrow . . . if you've got the guts."
I was so sick of being me, and I didn't know what to do about it, so I was willing to do just about anything. "Okay."
* * *
By the time my last class was over, I was more than a little excited about what was to come. Shelly was waiting for me at our dorm room, and she seemed to be excited as well.
On the short drive to the mall, she asked me, "Okay, how much money do you have to spend?"
"Not much. I think I have about two hundred available on my credit card, but I'm going to need some to get by the rest of the month, at least fifty dollars. My parents take care of the bill on the first of each month."
"So we have a hundred and fifty. That's more than enough to get you started. We can add to your wardrobe a little each month."
Our first stop at the mall was at the Gap. "You're kidding?" I questioned Shelly when she handed me a pair of pink shorts that was two sizes too small for me. She answered me by pulling two more shorts off the rack, both the same size as the pink pair, one light blue and one white.
She followed me into the changing room area and refused to let me close the curtain. When I pulled off my skirt, Shelly giggled. "Don't move." And she ran back out into the store. When she returned, she handed me a small thong to replace my granny panties.
It was difficult to snap the shorts, but I finally managed. "Perfect!" Shelly exclaimed when I moved back and forth in front of the full-length mirror.
I didn't have much of an ass, but what I did have was bulging out from the shorts. And in front, holy shit, it was blatantly obvious that the material had been forced between my lips. I could clearly see the outline of my pussy. "Perfect? Really?"
"Yep, now get out of those and we'll find you some long pants."
Shelly's idea of long pants was a pair of white hip huggers. The tight cuffs hit me just above the ankle, and the legs and upper portion hugged my body every bit as tightly as the shorts I'd tried on earlier.
"So, me being able to breathe is low on your list of priorities, huh?"
Shelly just laughed and slapped me on that ass. "Get over it."
After picking out a rather flashy sequined belt, my mental calculations had the bill at over a hundred and twenty-five dollars, so I assumed we were done. I was wrong. "Now, we need to find you some stiletto heels."
"No way! We'll be way over my budget."
Shelly slid her arm around my waist and bumped hips with me. "I'll front you enough for the heels. You can pay me back after the first of the month."
"But we haven't even looked at tops yet." I protested.
She waved off my concern, "Don't worry about it. The tops I have in mind for you won't bust your budget."
I couldn't imagine what she had in mind, but I resigned myself to go along. I had, after all, put myself in her hands.
When we left the Gap, Shelly pulled me toward the Sears department store at one end of the mall. "Sears, really?"
She just laughed and said, "Trust me."
So I did.
* * *
Two hours later, I was sitting naked in a chair in our small bathroom. Shelly had insisted that I was naked, "You don't want hair all over your clothes, do you?"
I suspected that she just liked me being naked, but I played along. She surprised me when she unzipped a small bag and took out a stylist cape and scissors. She just chuckled, "I have three sisters. We always did each other's hair."
I panicked when I heard the buzz of her clippers, afraid that she was going to totally shave my head, and I wasn't far off. When she was done, my neck and over my ears had almost no hair left, and on top, my hair was only slightly longer than a boy's haircut—maybe three or four inches long.
"What do you think?" She asked me, obviously very proud of herself.
I just shrugged, "Well, it'll be easier to wash."
After a quick shower and blow drying my now really short hair, she had me model my new outfits. I still didn't get her ideas on the tops. We'd purchased two, two packs of men's sleeveless loose-knit undershirts. One pack was men's small, and the other was men's large. When I questioned her about it while we were in Sears, she just laughed and said, "Trust me." They were less than five dollars per two pack, so I didn't press her on it.
She had me put on the pink shorts first and one of the small undershirts. When she insisted that I tuck in the tail, I complained, "There's no room to tuck anything into these shorts. They're too tight."
"Quit your bitching and do it." She said in a stern tone.
"Yes, Ma'am", so I sucked in my belly enough to finally get the shorts buttoned. After putting on my new belt, I stepped in front of the mirror. WOW! The look was incredible . . . and sexy.
When she'd finished cutting my hair, I'd been worried that even more people would mistake me for a boy. That did happen a lot, even with my hair longer. But HOLY SHIT! There was no chance that anyone would mistake me for a boy now. Not only did the shorts split my pussy lips open, but that small sleeveless shirt was stretched tightly over my tits, causing my naturally long nipples to poke out very noticeably.
"Now let me show you the difference. Take off the shirt." And then she handed me one of the large sleeveless shirts. When I finally got it tucked in and my shorts buttoned, it only took one glance in the mirror to see the difference. Even when tucked in, the large sleeves exposed almost all of my sides, and when I moved just right, one could see all of my small tits through the arm holes.
"Well?"
"I . . . I don't know what to say. I look . . . I don't know . . . sexy, provocative, daring . . . something, all of the above."
Shelly began laughing, "Yes, all of the above, and you don't even have on your heels yet. Now, have you ever slept in the nude?"
"No", I answered honestly.
"Well, you're going to start tonight. You'll feel sexy when you fall asleep, and just as sexy when you wake up in the morning."
And then she saw the worried look on my face. She let out a huge laugh and then told me, "Don't worry, Vic, I'm not going to rape you in the middle of the night."
"You don't sleep in the nude." I challenged her.
"Only because I didn't want to freak you out. Trust me, starting tonight, I will. I always have."
* * *
Shell was right. Being nude in my bed did indeed make me feel sexy. And the next morning, WOW! When I woke up and stretched mightily, the sheet against my nude body felt incredible. And when I threw off the covers and got out of bed, it felt so . . . so . . . I don't know, liberating. I could be naked and not worry about what anyone thought about it—especially Shell. She was still asleep, but even if she'd been awake, I wouldn't have cared.
When I went in to pee and take a shower, I didn't even bother closing the door. "Don't turn off the water." I heard Shell say just as I was finishing my shower.
When I pulled back the curtain and stepped out, Shell was naked and waiting. She stepped past me and into the shower without comment.
That day at school was very special. I was wearing my new pants and one of the small men's sleeveless undershirts, and sneakers. WOW! What a difference! When walking down the hall, I wasn't invisible anymore. Boys and girls alike took notice. They actually spoke to me, and I ate it up.
"Well?" Shell questioned me that evening when we were both back in our dorm room.
"Holy Shit! I can't believe the difference."
She laughed out loud, "Told ya. Now, I've been invited to a party tomorrow night. You should go with me."
"All lesbians?"
She chuckled, "No, there will be guys there too. Of course, they'll all be gay, but still."
"Oh great! So all I have to do is turn on some gay boys."
Shell laughed out loud again, "Trust me, just wear one of your new shorts and one of the large men's shirts . . . the rest will take care of itself."
"Heels?"
"Nah, let's save them for a special occasion."
"Okay"
* * *
Wow! Talk about an ego booster! That party was fantastic. Both males and females alike praised my sexiness. "I love the easy access" one of Shell's lesbian friends said, pointing to my drooping sleeve holes.
Shell cut her friend short, "Go easy. She's not one of us."
The girl, Patsy, grinned and said, "Maybe not yet, but she soon will be, trust me."
"Where the hell have you been hiding this sexy creature?" An obviously gay boy asked Shell.
Shell laughed, "She's my new roommate."
He threw his hand to his chest and gasped, "Oh my god, lucky you."
