After the longer stories in the three-part, 'Office Surprise' series, to be concluded when I have time. I wanted to submit a short story I wrote a while ago for a colleague and friend who was fascinated by my adventures.
As a budding exhibitionist, she was excited by the idea of 'flashing', but hadn't built up the courage to take the plunge. She discovered we both like very similar things and wanted to know how I found and explored a liking for 'being seen', mutual masturbation, and teasing.
It set me thinking to back to my first experience, at nineteen. I was still a virgin, inexperienced, yet I was to find I was confident enough to follow my desires and get what I wanted. I was aware of my sexuality, had desires that I had up until now taken care of with my fingers, and so far had resisted dating, or the advances of fellow students.
My Aunt, my guardian, after my parents had passed in a car accident, was a strong independent lady with a successful business.
She taught that despite what feminists say, being an attractive woman in a man's world was never a disadvantage if you were smart enough to work with it and take advantage. Previously educated in boarding schools, I had little experience of being around boys until collage, but my Aunt gave me sound and sensible talks on men, sex and exploring my sexuality.
She was open, honest and talked of the pleasure sex could bring, rather than just the sterile practicality taught in sex education classes.
And in collage I had been pretty much a loaner, caught up in my studies as I wanted to do well. Still, I was also well aware of the looks I got from the male students, as well as the comments when we passed in the hallways. I found the attention exciting and started to wear my skirts a little shorter, my tops a little tighter, just for the thrill of the tease.
My Aunt's property was a large, three bedroomed detached,my bedroom was the second largest, en suite facing the rear of the property with a small balcony overlooking a moderate tidy garden and the houses to the back. Which were separated by wooden fencing and a narrow footpath between.
It was here my adventures began for me one Saturday after I had returned from a run.
My Aunt was away, so I treated myself to a nice long soak in the bath, rather than taking a shower in my en suite. Drying off, I walked to my room naked, having forgotten to pick up my robe.
It was dark outside, and the curtains open, causing me to pause momentarily at the door. Bedside lamps dimly lighted the room, so thinking nothing of it I sat on the edge of my bed and started gently rubbing body lotion into my skin.
The security light to the rear of the house opposite came on briefly, and I thought I saw a shadow duck down behind the fence of their garden, then slowly peek over the top.
Whoever it was had been facing away from the neighbour's house. With a surprising tingle of anticipation, I realised they must be spying on me as I sat naked.
Rather than feeling embarrassed, I found it exciting.
The person, (pervert?) stood as the security light faded and the garden became darker. I could just about make out the shape of him staring up at my balcony window, perhaps thinking I couldn't see out, as I hadn't reacted in any way.
I was sitting sideways on to the window, in profile so he would be able to see the shape of my breasts, hips, thighs but little else.
My heart raced as I wondered what he thought of my breasts.
I had never been naked in front of the opposite sex before; even my doctor was female. I wondered if he would be able to see how prominent my nipples were, erect from the thrill of being caught.
Suddenly I had an overwhelming desire for my spy to see everything.
My reaction surprised me. But, I stood on shaky legs and turned slowly, giving him a fully exposed view of my entire body.
My mouth was dry, and I was trembling all over, knowing that he could see everything from my breasts to the sparse neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair, leading down to the secret place between my thighs.
A tremor of excitement went through my body at that realisation, I forced myself to take slow, relaxed breaths and act natural as if I didn't know anyone was there, so as not to frighten my spy away. I groaned, turned on and suddenly desperate to move a hand down between my legs.
For a moment I wondered if it would be going too far, but then I found an excuse to do so and tease him further.
Turning my back to the window, I bent from the waist, legs slightly splayed to retrieve the moisturiser from the bedside table. I didn't know whether the spy was close enough to see my bare pussy lips, but the thought that he might be able to sent shivers through my body.
Shocked at the intensity of my feelings, of a need to be seen, I casually turned back towards the window, my thighs slightly apart.
With moisturiser on the tips of my fingers, I rubbed a hand over my lower belly, travelling lower until my fingers passed through my pubic hair, I lingered briefly on my clit.
Lost in the moment, I placed a foot on the bedside table and pressed a finger to my pussy. It slipped easily between my very moist outer lips to my opening.I curled two fingers inside myself, caressing the smooth, warm dampness there.
Soaked, I then slipped them out and back to my clit.
The 'naughtiness' of putting on a show soon got to me.
Just the slight pressure of my finger tips was enough to give me an almost instantaneous orgasm. I gasped, keeping a finger busy until my breathing started to return to normal.
Lifting my head slightly, I saw my spy standing openly by the neighbours garden gate.
I waved
He panicked and ran for the house behind.
So it had been the neighbour's son who had been spying on me.
He was a year older and a quiet, slight 'geek.' computer club sort, and I wondered if he'd spied on my room before. How many times had he caught a glimpse as I wandered around, getting dressed?
My mind raced, had he been masturbating, while watching me dress?
Rather than being annoyed, I was intrigued, wondering how he looked doing it and a little excited at the thought of me being the cause of his excitment.
I quickly pulled on panties and bra, plain cotton nothing revealing, my robe and trainers, then raced downstairs, through our garden, over the path and into the neighbours.
I knew his parents were out for the evening, so I tried the back door, found it unlocked and let myself in.
Hearing the door click, he rushed into the kitchen and stopped open-mouthed.
I stood hand on hip, robe not fastened, but not wide open.
He stood speechless, his eyes roving over my legs, taking in the teasing glimpse of panties, the hint of a bra.
His partly open fly betrayed what he had been about to do before I had interrupted him, along with the fist full of tissue.
