This is a series focused, mostly, on Exhibitionism. Any vanilla sex in this series will be mentioned only in passing, unless some fetish is involved or the scene is crucial to the overall story.
This is a story about a friend of mine, who knows I'm telling it here, mostly according to her own account -- when the series get to the point when we've actually met, it will get my point of view as well. Of course, I've changed people's names.
XXX
The first time Kimberly Fife noticed an uncle leering at her chest, she considered widening her cleavage. Would he dare keep his eyes on her? Would someone stop them? Kimberly realized that was wrong, but she couldn't figure out why, and she soon learned how other women submitted to men's indiscretions, only complaining about it to other women. Boys will be boys. Well, it seemed that old men would be boys too. They didn't even have to fake it in 1980s, during her teenage years.
Being popular with guys came natural to her. Kimberly's fake laugh was spot on, she loved playing with her long hair, she leaned too much to borrow any pen and she let her cleavage do what it wanted. Kimberly being taller than any classmate, -- she reached 6'1", her current height, pretty early on -- guys played all kinds of tricks to look up her skirt. If she caught them, she'd slap their shoulders or chests, smiling. Her thin eyes and nose made people forget her size when they spoke closely to her, only to be taken aback as she walked away. Men often overlooked her height simply because they were so fixated on her breasts that they missed the overall figure.
According to Kimberly, her real problem growing up were her parents, since they trusted implicitly any rumor against her. As gossip grew filthier, they were the first ones in her life to call her a slut -- at the time, there was nothing empowering about it. With little knowledge of sex and desire, she was introduced to her own kinky imagination through whispers about her, as when someone spread in school that she'd flashed one of her friends' dad. Kimberly didn't even know, until then, what "flashing" was, although it did sound amusing. She'd bet older men would act as any other boy whenever he saw some tits.
Ironically, the rumor that did the most damage was mostly true. People embellished it, saying she was pantyless that night, or that she'd used her hands, but the fact was that she danced with a classmate in a girlfriend's party and she rubbed herself against his pants, so squarely against his cock, that he came right there. Their friends and classmates laughed at him, but they quickly turned on her. Even though she had to change schools, what depressed her most about the incident was that dancing like that had been the best experience of her life.
Kimberly got into college in 1990, and by then Miss Fife had learned to suppress or shush most of her cravings. Still, she arrived on campus as an odd figure, feeling like a curvaceous giantess among freshmen. Kimberly wondered what would a woman with her body do if she were shy -- or, as her father would say, "normal".
Kimberly learned about sex, sort of, by fucking the first pretty tall sophomore she met. He was ok, and Kimberly tagged as "freakish" whatever impulses she had beyond what that dude accepted in bed. She only fucked two other guys before settling with Dennis, her first boyfriend.
He seemed to be part of the same fashion police as her parents. When confronted with his jealousy, Kimberly assured him that she dressed for him, and it wasn't her fault that other guys took notice. Boys will be boys. When Dennis mentioned other guys looking at her, Kimberly was aroused, but she attributed it to their fight. Then, she simply had to fuck, and Dennis would do.
Kimberly framed that randiness as proof of her longing just for him and, in case he was too angry, she'd run anywhere a bit quiet and make herself cum -- she had also learned to never admit to anyone that she masturbated, even though she was getting used to touching herself not only at home, but in random bathrooms. She was shocked to learn that women didn't come as easily or as often as her. It was harder to accept that most claimed never to cum at all.
Because she dated Dennis for so long, Kimberly insists she was a late bloomer. She desired to let guys see her boobs at bars and to pull up her skirt when a guy was trying to check her panties, no matter the man's appearance, but she didn't follow through. Every holiday trip back home stifled her desires, until, in March 1994, just before her 21st birthday, she caught the eye of a very short and muscular 18-year-old named Steve Breslin.
He was extremely discreet, but not for Kimberly -- she not only caught him looking at her legs, her ass, her tits, she also noticed how he never missed an opportunity to do so and, to her amazement, it wouldn't lead to any comments or stupid jokes. He really tried to fly under the radar. Being 5'2", his line of sight matched the height of her nipples, and Kimberly found very cute how much he struggled to resist looking at them.
Unlike her, Steve didn't have to work through college, and he was eager to assist her when she fell behind in some classes. Kimberly invited him to her flat whenever her boyfriend wasn't around. She wore loose crop tops and tiny shorts, specially the pink one that showed a bit of her ass even when she was standing straight. Kimberly'd wear no panties, hoping he'd notice somehow, but she kept her bra, for at the time she believed her breasts wouldn't be as attractive when unsupported.
On some occasions, she'd notice the growing volume at his crotch. She loved how Steve discreetly squirmed, like a gentleman.
In spite of his manners, Steve talked about sex way more naturally than her. Whenever she opened up to him, he listened without judgment. When she shared her story about the dance floor, the one that got her expelled, he was so supportive that she wanted to introduce him to her parents and casually bring out the subject.
Telling Steve about Dennis led Kimberly to actually discuss her sex life, which became an excuse to discuss desire, tenderness, roughness, fantasies, taboos and so on. That's how she found out that just talking about sex could turn her on. Better than that, it was hotter to fuck Dennis now that she imagined she was narrating it to Steve.
One evening, as they sat studying marital laws in different societies, their conversation somehow drifted to the topic of bra sizes. Kimberly was explaining the letters and the numbers, talking about D and F, so she went to her drawer and put a few bras on her bedsheet to illustrate it all. Steve had no safe way to adjust what was happening in his pants. The volume kept growing in a way it would be inadequate for him to just leave it be. He laughed, excused himself and tried to get to another position.
"That's ok", she said. "It doesn't bother me."
"Right. Thank you. Really."
As if he could still hide it from her, Steve positioned his cock more comfortably, but probably the fact that she was looking directly at it made it harder, forcing the linen.
Her boyfriend popped into her head. She pictured Dennis on that very bed and felt an urge to compare his cock to Steve's. Kimberly even thought about Dennis' jealousy, how he -- and anyone else for that matter -- would judge that scene as some sort of betrayal. Why couldn't Steve be that intimate with her? They weren't even touching, they were simply talking about her body, and he was learning something men should know about.
"Are you comfortable?" she asked with sincere concern. He seemed to experience a bit of pain.
"It's ok now."
