Tutoring An Exhibitionist Pt 01

Please note that there is a kernel of truth to all of my stories. It easier for me to embellish the details when I have an incident from my past as the basis of my imaginative stories. All characters are 18+.

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I had asked Janet to call anytime after 7 the next morning (Saturday). She called at 7:02. I was still in bed, but awake, thinking about all that had transpired yesterday at the salon. I had to hurry to the kitchen to get it before the answering machine kicked in after six rings. I managed to answer it after four.

I took the early call as a sign that she was as anxious to continue our discussion as I was. Perhaps even meet for breakfast. I had included my address on the back of the note, along with the apartment number so that she would know that I lived on the tenth floor of a high rise complex close to the salon in our old neighborhood. She lived with her parents in a nice home close to where we had gone to school. My parents still lived in the area too, but I had lived on my own since I started teaching. I loved the neighborhood so I found a place close by, allowing me to visit on short notice or pop over for a home cooked meal.

I answered the phone knowing that it would be Janet - I would have been surprised if it wasn't. She apologized for phoning so early, but wanted to call me before her parents were up and about, concerned about what they might overhear. I told her it was great - I had hoped that she would call - the earlier the better! I had wanted a chance to pick up where we had left off yesterday.

In a low voice, she asked me what I was doing, what I was up to today. I told her that, right now, I was having a coffee and exposing myself to my neighbors! But otherwise, no plans until work on Monday. She laughed at that until I told her it was true - I was naked and standing in front of the bay window in my kitchen. There was an awkward moment of silence on her part and I was just about to add something when she blurted out "Can I come over? Now?"

Wow! Sure! I hadn't counted on this right away. I had pictured us talking dirty to each other on the phone and then meeting at a local greasy spoon for breakfast. Before I could answer and extend the invitation, she told me that she was going to bring a few things with her - outfits and gadgets that she wanted my opinion on.

Again, wow! Sure! I asked her what time I could expect her so that I could plan for breakfast. She seemed anxious to get going and told that she already had her knapsack packed (she had anticipated coming over this morning I asked myself?) and would be there before 8. I told her where to park, the code to buzz herself in and to just come on up when she got here.

I continued that I would leave the apartment door ajar as I would be grabbing a quick shower shortly. The coffee was already brewed so she should come on in and grab herself one (cream is in the fridge) and that I would make us some eggs and toast for breakfast. As we hung up, I began wandering around with a critical eye, making sure the place was clean and tidy. I was aware of my nudity, but I was often buff at home and thought nothing of it.

It wasn't 7:15 yet and I was usually on a more leisurely pace on a Saturday morning. I hadn't even finished my first coffee yet! I had deliberately left it so that that she could arrive without having to buzz up first, to arrive "unannounced" so to speak. She lived close by so I knew it could be at any time. I would be interested to see just how early she did get here, "before 8" being a bit vague. I would leave the apartment door ajar when I hopped into the shower in a few minutes.

I was going to try and play this with finesse and create a "window" to get caught in. I wanted to be able to control what I could, leaving it up to Janet's eagerness on whether I got "caught" in the shower or not. I would prop the door open at 7:35, hop into the shower and be finished in ten minutes. I would then put on a flimsy nylon robe I had for such occasions and be ready to meet her when she arrived, cutting it close to 8. I was hoping for an "awkward" moment, with just a towel on if she showed up early...

As I fussed about and took a few minutes to tidy up a bit before showering, there was a knock at the door - 7:29! I was still naked! I immediately developed a flaming hard-on and had nothing on hand to hide it. Where was that towel I was planning on? I had my robe in the bedroom, but nothing handy. I wasn't prepared for her VERY early arrival and I was caught flat-footed, my plan on the fly was thrown for a loop before it could be tested.

I was nervous and stammering, uncertain on how to handle this unexpected development. She knocked again and called out, so I opened the door part way, using it to hide my nakedness as I peeked around the edge to invite her in. There she was : looking both cute and voluptuous at the same time.

She continued to amaze. Despite the promise of a hot day to come, she was wearing a tan trench coat, her long hair tucked inside a matching fedora hat and stiletto heels that added an impressive four inches to her height. One knee was bent such that it poked out of her coat showing a generous amount of thigh. She was obviously posing for me.

I whistled softly at the look which she was milking for all it was worth, right down to the sultry look she gave me. She very much had the appearance of the femme fatale, her stiletto heels completing the look. There was a large knapsack on the floor beside her (I think she had put it down to allow me to "appreciate the look" she had garnered as I opened the door) and she gestured for me to pick it up as she lowered her stiletto back to the floor.

I realized that she was quick on the uptake and took my peeking around the door for what it was - I was using it to hide myself. She noted my hesitation and told me directly to "get her things", and stepped towards the open door. I had to step out into the hall to retrieve it, and she was directly in my way, no doubt on purpose.

An awkward shuffling on my part as I stepped around her to retrieve her bag brought a smile to her face - she was enjoying my predicament. As I picked up the knapsack, I immediately used it to hide my nakedness as I followed her slow saunter into the apartment. She was enjoying my impatience to get in behind the closed door. As the door closed behind me, I apologised for being caught "with my pants down". She took a long look at me and I know she assumed that I was buff on purpose.

Without a word, she reached out and took the knapsack back, tugging it out of my hand and setting it down, right by the door. This left me completely exposed directly in front of her. I refused to cover myself with my hands and I stood there, my erection pointing directly at her.

She removed her hat and hung it up, making a production of it. I offered to take her coat, which she was in the process of unbuttoning. As I lifted it from her shoulders and she stepped out of it, I was momentarily taken aback. I appeared that she was completely naked!

I wouldn't have expected to see Janet in stockings and heels in the first place, but here she was. A ankle length spandex body stocking to be precise. Flesh toned and sheer, open at the crotch. Almost invisible because of the lack of any lace or adornment. Her breasts stretching the material so that the entire outfit fit like a second skin, her erect nipples pointing up at the ceiling.

As I hung up her coat, she turned back and leaped into my arms, catching me by surprise. She almost fell out of my grasp, my hands slipping on the slick spandex encasing those magnificent cheeks. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling those incredible tits tight against my chest. My excitement was there and nestled comfortably between her legs, her pussy lips exposed and warm against my rod. Her weight pushed down on my glans and shaft forcefully as she tightened her grip. Her enormous breasts creating a bridge between us as she leaned back, relying on my strength to hold her in place.

Before there was any real penetration, she kissed me on the cheek and nibbled my earlobe as she unwrapped herself from my waist and stepped back down gently to the floor. She no doubt made note of my recent Brazilian, if she hadn't noted it yesterday, she did now. It seemed that nothing escaped her attention. What a beautiful and spontaneous delight she was!

So, here we were. In many ways, the girl of my dreams : an incredibly busty, fit Asian beauty who had a confessed crush on me. And me : a fit, muscular male in an apartment set up like a fishbowl with dozens (hundreds) of windows with a view! It really just occurred to me - a seasoned flasher and a budding exhibitionist willing to be tutored and learn how to act on her impulsiveness. My apartment was the perfect place to showcase ourselves.

I offered to give her a quick tour of my roomy two bedroom apartment before sitting down for a coffee and a bite. My nakedness didn't seem to phase her - she was anxious to check it out. She was immediately taken by the large floor to ceiling windows throughout and just how exposed we were. The complex consisted of six 14 story buildings centered around a large, circular court with a narrow balcony off of the master bedrooms.

The apartment itself was a large corner unit, so it's windows faced in two different directions. I had been lucky that it was available when I had started looking and I took it immediately, quickly realizing that it was perfect showcase for showing off. My bedroom and living/dining room windows faced east and one of the other towers directly, with angled views of two others. My kitchen and den windows faced south and directly opposite a fourth tower at a 90 degree angle. Hundreds of potential voyeurs.

I had put the drapes provided in storage and replaced them all with deliberately translucent curtains on all of the windows. They were entirely inadequate at providing any real privacy, even when drawn. I had gotten used to leaving them open most of the time anyway and this morning was no exception.

Janet immediately saw the implication of this and commented on the "prying eyes" of my neighbors. She walked over to the nearest window and stood there deliberately for all to see. Her body stocking was all but invisible in the sunlight streaming in and her heels caused an exaggerated arch of her lower back. This thrust her breasts forward even more than usual and she was thoroughly enjoying displaying herself. I moved over and stood beside her, placing my arm over her shoulder. Two "nudes" showing off to anyone looking from across the way.

She asked if I thought any of my neighbors were watching us right now. I suggested that it was quite probable and even likely. I had "caught" several of them doing just that, "spying" on me at all times of the day or night as I made little effort to hide my nudity when it suited me. I related that even when drawn, my curtains offered little privacy. When the ceiling lights were on at night, they became sheer, so I just assumed that I could be seen at any time. I confessed that I did my share of "peeping" too and had found several neighbors who liked to be watched.

As we entered the bedroom, I grabbed the nylon robe that was hanging on the back of the door, covering myself for the first time this morning. I caught her tweaking her nipples and hardening them even further. I was (again) taken by her lack of modesty.

She was, in effect, completely naked and exposed for all intents and purposes. She saw the unmade bed and boldly sat on the end of it and leaned back. Placing her hands behind her back, she propped herself at an angle, directly in front on the window. This, of course, had the effect of thrusting her breasts forward, the nipples now engorged. I commented that that would get our neighbor's attention.

She smiled at that and took my hand as I offered to help her to her feet, my robe parting as I had ignored tying the sash. I stood close as I braced myself to take her weight and she stood up directly into me, my glans brushing against her midriff as her nipples fairly poking into me at our awkward embrace. She took a moment to hug me, which seemed the appropriate response at the moment.

I decided to keep the tour short and saved showing her my "studio" (the den, next to the kitchen) until after we ate, so we worked our way back towards the kitchen. I found I had to keep retying the sash on my robe as a simple loop was not enough to hold for more than a few seconds. If I was moving at all, it simply let go (as I had just shown). I could fix the "problem" by simply tying it in a knot, but it suited my purposes to have it keep slipping and having to keep retying the sash to keep myself covered. I enjoying the "accidental" exposures.

As she entered the kitchen and sat at the nearest seat to the window, she realized that we were looking at a different building entirely and that she therefore had a new audience. This particular tower was much closer than the others and was at right angles, so that it's master bedrooms and living rooms faced us. She brightened at that and sat in profile to the window as I busied myself making a simple breakfast for the two of us.

I still didn't believe it. Janet was sitting in my kitchen, in front of the most exposed of all of my apartment windows, dressed in an outfit that hid NOTHING. And she was loving it. I asked her straight out if she was comfortable here, exposed for all to see?

She ignored that and asked me to bring in her knapsack from the hall. She told me that she had borrowed the stilettos, coat and fedora from her older sister who was out of town for the weekend. She was not used to wearing heels and her feet were beginning to hurt so she was going to change into the sandals she had worn yesterday. She rooted around in her knapsack and pulled them out.

At this point, I had our breakfasts ready and brought over our two plates. As I had hoped, the sash let go and the robe fell open and here I was again, exposed to both Janet and whoever might be peeping at the moment. It seemed that it was old hat to Janet now, because she hardly seemed to notice. I adjusted myself and we sat down to eat, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight streaming into the kitchen.

When we had finished and I put our dishes in the washer, she asked me to help her change shoes. I had made a fuss about her feet yesterday (her nails in particular) - perhaps she knew I had a thing for feet.

I pulled my chair over as close to the window as I could so that she could remain in profile, her endowment visible to anyone looking our way. I was sitting close to her so that when she lifted her left stiletto and placed it on the front of my seat, her knee was bent slightly. I caressed her calf as I slipped the shoe off her foot. She then put the second one up and I repeated the caress on the other calf before I slipped that shoe off too.

God, her feet were gorgeous! Removing her shoes gave me direct access to her feet now and her red nails just accentuated their beauty. My rod was as hard as it ever had been. I leaned in and shifted forward, bringing the bottom of her feet within inches of my glans. She adjusted her own position by parting her knees and sliding her butt forward, giving my hands full access to her entire legs.

As I began to massage her feet, I took a moment to slide my hands up each leg past her knees. On the return stroke, I pressed her soles together, on either side of my shaft. I took my time to rub each foot alternately and to massage each of her individual toes. I used my thumbs in alternating strokes up and down the soles, eliciting a soft moan from her.

As I continued the massage of her feet and legs, I asked her about her massage studies at the local college. She knew I was asking as a source of distraction, to prolong our pleasure as I was obviously enjoying myself too as she was using her feet to brush my glans and shaft as I continued to manipulate them. She had a dreamy look at my attentions and there was a hint of huskiness in her voice as she began.

She stated that it was a two year program and that the female students outnumbered the males about 3 to 1 out of a total of 40. She was in her second year and had been excelling and was at the top of her class. She had already earned her reflexology certification and would be graduating in the spring with her massage qualifications, ready for the "boards" shortly after that.

The school encouraged practice and there was a low-priced clinic open to the public for them to log hours, but her and her classmates practiced on each other - often on a daily basis. There was a studio with six tables available, separated by partitions where instructors could observe and evaluate, but unless they were asked to be there, the students were left on their own.

They were young, fit for the most part and it was a highly sexualized environment. They all knew that once they passed the "boards" and received their license that they would be scrutinized for inappropriate conduct. Before that day however... The touching of each other behind closed doors at school often crossed that line, while the consequences were minimal. The unwritten rule among her classmates was that anthing short on genital play was acceptable if agreed upon by the massage partners.

Dating each other was frowned upon. Jealousies were bound to develop. She was a favourite practice partner for the straight males in the class, but also for many of the females. They did not have to be bi to appreciate her curves and breasts. She was popular with her classmates and the faculty and was affectionately called "Melons" by everyone at school. She feigned annoyance at this, but knew that it was meant to be affectionate. She hadn't even tried to discourage any of them from fondling her breasts whenever they got the chance. She relished the attention. Her nipples were particular sensitive and responsive and she never lacked for a partner to practice with.

Her feet were both resting between my thighs. I grasped both feet by the ankles and pushed the chair back, dropping to my knees in front of her. The look in her eye was priceless - what was I up to now? Her voice trailed off as I took one of her big toes between my lips and sucked on it, my tongue working it's way around and between each of her toes.

She was moaning softly as I licked the sole of her foot, then quickly switched to the other foot and repeated the same attention to it. I gingerly dropped the first foot back to my quads to free up one hand to wander north, past her knee and onto her inner thigh, kneading her quads with my thumb an fingers. She again adjusted her position to give me unfettered access to her entire leg, all the time moaning softly and quivering slightly.

I told her there was one room I hadn't shown her on the tour - my studio. Her eyebrows rose at that, her interest piqued. It was right next to the kitchen and shared a southern exposure with floor to ceiling windows making up the entire outside wall. As I opened the door to reveal a massage table in the center of the room, all set up and ready to go, I heard Janet gasp. The room had little else in the way of furniture.

The other walls were crowded with framed pictures of Pin-Up girls painted by various artists that I had collected over the last couple of years. These were prints of classic adverts and calendars from the 50's and 60's. Cheesecake. Nothing vulgar or crass. No exposed crotches or crude poses, The models were busty (always busty) painted in awkward or provocative poses with high heels, ample cleavage, lingerie and most often with stockings and generous glimpses of thigh.

Janet's eyes gravitated to the gallery as she stepped in to my studio. She seemed to find them fascinating and checked them out closely, her nipples visibly hardening. And it wasn't the least bit cold in here!