The advert kept drawing her eye. 6 words that burned to the centre of her, melting something buried deep. 'Closet exhibitionist required for private project.'
Closet exhibitionist described her perfectly. Or at least it described someone she used to be.
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Kirsty had been something of a late developer, only blossoming into full womanhood during the latter days of college. University was the time when she was able to explore who she really was. She lost her virginity in a largely forgettable freshers week fumble, and proceeded to get into the swing of uni life.
She moved into a student flat with 3 others - 2 lads studying Civil Engineering (nice enough but a bit dull), and another girl called Sam. Sam was like a walking hormone - always talking about sex, openly fantasising about people she met or saw on TV, and not shy to discuss her many conquests. Kirsty really liked Sam, but found her a bit intimidating - probably due to Kirsty's lack of experience and more reserve when it came to anything sexual.
Like many exhibitionists, she first fell in love with watching. The thrill of unexpectedly seeing something illicit.
It was random chance - walking home late one night after a big fresher's fancy dress club night, a noise drew her eye to a doorway slightly ahead of her. In the shadows, a man stood with one hand on the wall and head thrown back in ecstacy. Between his legs, a blonde girl was enthusiastically sucking his cock. Cheeks drawn in as she bobbed her head up and down the shaft, taking the whole length in and moaning appreciatively.
The street lamp over the road lit the scene perfectly. The girl looked like she had been at the same club night, dressed as a slutty schoolgirl - blonde hair tied in pig tails and a white blouse tied round her midriff. She was crouched in high heels, bare legs spread wide apart letting her short tartan skirt ride up to her waist, wantonly exposing her bare, glistening pussy to the night.
Kirsty was shocked, but despite herself her eye was drawn to the girls hand, alternating between furiously rubbing her clitoris before plunging two fingers deep inside herself urgently.
Kirsty had to fight the urge to lift her skirt and seek her own relief. Suddenly, she froze - the girl was looking right at her, smiling. Her right hand was wrapped round the base of the man's erection, slowly tugging. Without breaking eye contact with Kirsty, the girl parted her lips and licked the underside of his cock along its full length, eliciting a noise that was half groan, half growl. Fight or flight kicked in and Kirsty ran past the couple and didn't stop til she got to her flat.
The flat was empty when she got home and Kirsty rushed to lock herself in her bedroom. The scene she had witnessed replayed itself over and over again in her head. The dirtiness of it thrilled her. Each time she replayed it her focus came back to the brazenness of the girl - short skirt, no knickers and high heels, legs spread wide - seemingly enjoying the exposure. Despite having never thought of another woman sexually before, it was the image of the girl's fingers frantically sliding in and out of her shaved, soaking slit that made Kirsty buck against her own hand as she came hard in the privacy of her bedroom.
Wide awake now, and buzzing with excitement she decided to shower. Stripping off the rest of her clothes she tood in front of the mirror. She wasn't bad looking, a pretty face with dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. Brown hair framed her face and rested on athletic shoulders. Her breasts were a nice C cup, tipped with long pink nipples which had a tendency to stand out in the cold, or when she was aroused. For that reason alone she usually kept them covered in a thick padded bra, even around the house. She pinched them now and watched them swell to their full length. Her tummy was pleasingly toned, as were her legs and arse - a product of many miles of middle distance running. Her neatly trimmed pubic hair was still wet from her orgasm, and her thighs were slick with her juices.
