I was around at Bob's place helping him fix his car. He's quite good with his hands and I'm reasonably competent and we were making great progress. Then we hit a snag. There's always something that will go wrong.
I could hear Bob cursing as he worked on trying to stick something in where it should logically go, but just wasn't going. I finished what I was doing and then went to see what was going wrong. The new part that he was trying to fit just wasn't going on. I glanced at the box it had come in, sniggered, and gently broke the news to him.
"You've got the right part but wrong model car, you dickhead. You'll have to take it back and change it."
Bob snatched up the box and checked it.
"I'll kill that fuckwit," he snarled. "I even wrote make and model down and gave it to him. I'm going to take this back and feed it to the dumb bastard."
"You go get him, boy," I said. "I'll finish up the rest of the little bits and pieces while you're gone."
"You do that, mate," Bob grumbled. "Feel free to wander in and grab a drink while you're waiting for me."
Bob then borrowed Diana's car (his sister's -- borrow means "I'm taking your car. Gimmee the keys.) and headed down to wherever he got dudded on the part.
I hopped to and finished off the rest of the bits and pieces and Bob's car was as good as new, bar one missing piece. Deciding a break was well earned I wandered in to make some coffee.
Diana was inside with Tracy a friend of hers. They were both very nice young women, and I wouldn't kick either of them out of my bed. They were arguing about a crossword they were trying to do. I made my coffee, listening to them debate the answers.
Coffee in hand I took a seat and relaxed. Diana was seated opposite me and Tracy was standing next to me, leaning forward and giving me a great view.
"OK," said Dianna. "Someone who watches. Six letters, starting with V."
The answer was obvious, so I gave it to them.
"Voyeur," I said, straight-faced.
Dianna didn't even blink. She just put it down and kept on going. After a while she found that they'd run into a problem. They had an answer but it didn't match up with the letters already down. Not surprisingly, voyeur was the word that seemed to be causing them trouble.
"Are you sure voyeur is right," she asked me. "What is a voyeur, anyway?"
"A voyeur is one who watches," I said. "The opposite of one who displays. One who displays is called an exhibitionist."
Tracy was frowning.
"That just can't be right," she said irritably. Then she had a brainwave. "Make that viewer," she said. "That will fix it."
Giving me a triumphant look the girls changed their answer.
"Why'd you say voyeur?" asked Tracy.
"It fitted," I told her "The dictionary definition of a voyeur is a person who watches others when they are naked or engaged in sexual activity."
"Ewww," said Diana. "That's gross."
"Why?" I asked her. "There's a huge industry out there that is dedicated to voyeurs and exhibitionists. It's called porn.
Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to see someone else having sex, or what it would be like to be seen naked by someone you're not involved with?"
Both girls blushed somewhat, emphatically denying any such thoughts.
"Liars," I said, smiling at them. "Everyone had those sort of thoughts. Come here for a second, Tracy."
Hesitantly, Tracy came round the table and stood next to me, clearly mistrustful of my intentions. She had a right to be. She was wearing yoga pants. Both girls were for that matter. Popular attire among young women. Even more popular with young men. I definitely liked them.
I indicated Tracy's yoga pants.
"You're wearing yoga pants," I pointed out, "and they're skin tight and designed to show your body off. There's no real difference between wearing pants like that and not wearing any, like this."
With those final words I'd suddenly hooked onto Tracy's yoga pants and pulled them down, accidentally collecting her panties on the way down.
Poor Tracy suddenly found herself standing there half naked. She sat down hard on the chair next to mine and I took the opportunity to whip the yoga pants right off and toss them to one side.
Tracy had promptly scooted her chair under the table to try to hide herself, but I made no effort to try to perve on her. Diana was giggling while Tracy was stuttering; probably trying to demand her pants.
"So how does it feel to be half naked in front of a relative stranger, Tracy?" I asked, letting her see I was laughing at her. "I'd say you are feeling mortified, a touch angry, a little excited and very conscious that you have a pussy that men would like to touch."
"Give me my clothes," Tracy hissed at me, but she wasn't standing up to go and get them.
"How do feel about it, Diana, knowing your friend is sitting there half naked?"
Diana just giggled, blushing slightly.
"Right now Tracy is being an exhibitionist, knowing that we're thinking of her sitting there with no panties on. Look at her. She's feeling downright naughty and wondering if we'll look at her if she gets up to get her clothes."
Tracy was feeling excited about it, no matter what she might say. Her nipples had swelled and were now neatly tenting the front of her t-shirt.
"So, Tracy," I said. "Do you want me to give you your clothes or would you prefer me to go and take off Diana's panties as well?"
Diana sat up with a squeak at that, looking appalled. Tracy on the other hand looked intrigued. She glanced at Diana and then at her clothes.
"I think I'd better have my pants back. Please pass them to me."
I grinned at Diana.
"She doesn't really mean that. She saying it because she thinks it the right thing to say. What she really wants is for you to lose your panties so that I can see if you've shaved your pussy too."
Tracy's face went even redder and her hands dropped below the table to cover her pussy, even though it was out of sight. I continued, determined to have a little more fun before they rebelled.
"So, Diana. Are you going to take up her challenge and take down your panties in front of us or do you want me to come around and take them off for you?"
It was Dianna's turn to blush and Tracy's turn to smirk. We were both watching Diana, seeing if she was game to take the challenge.
It's easier to do something you're nervous about when people are looking at you and expecting you to fall in line. Dianna stood up, rapidly pushed down her pants and panties and sat down again, fast.
I got off my chair and walked around to her. Reaching down, I slid my hand along her bare leg and then across a nice smooth mons.
"What are you doing?" Diana almost shrieked at me.
"I was just checking to see if you were clean shaven," I said innocently. You sat down too fast for me to really tell."
I resumed my seat, while the girls wriggled restlessly in theirs. Talk about cats on a hot tin roof. They wanted their pants back on but were too scared of being thought prudes or chicken if they insisted, especially as they weren't really showing anything.
"Half the fun in voyeurism and exhibitionism is just knowing that you're naked or seeing someone else naked when you really shouldn't. Can either of you honestly tell me that you're not just a little excited about sitting there with bare bottoms?"
Neither of them said anything, but there blushes didn't die down any.
"Of course, if you weren't a pair of blushing virgins you probably take this sort of thing in your stride," I murmured.
Both girls gave me indignant looks.
"What makes you think we're virgins," asked Tracy.
"I always assume that any woman I meet is a virgin," I told them, "unless I have personally checked. And you have to admit, for two women sitting around the table half naked, you're both acting with virginal modesty."
The flush on Tracy's face wasn't embarrassment any more, but annoyance. I seemed to be implying she wasn't an adult yet, despite her years and it was getting her goat. She stood up, arms akimbo, glaring at me.
"I'm not at all nervous about having a man look at me," she snapped. "If you want to look, go right ahead."
She tossed a glare at Diana, daring her to stay seated. Showing just a bit more reluctance, Diana stood up, hands behind her back, blushing most becomingly.
The two young women really were quite appealing. A little naïve and gullible, maybe, but quite enchanting to look at.
"Very nice," I said softly. "Very nice indeed. And what would you say if I suggested that I do a little check on your virginal status?"
Apparently I'd pissed Tracy off more than I'd realised. She turned and sort of lent forward over the table.
"Go ahead," she snapped. "Do your silly little check."
I suppose she expected me to just slide a finger into her and gently probe. That was not, however, my intention. Stepping behind her I slipped down my zip. You show me a man who can stand in front of two young ladies flashing their pussies without getting an erection and I'll show you a man who is gay or impotent.
I eased apart Tracy's lips and pressed into her. She was excited alright. How and wet. And suddenly shocked. Not what she had been expecting.
"Wait," she squealed. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Testing your virginity, like you said I could," I told her innocently. "Don't worry. It'll just be in far enough to be certain and then I withdraw."
"But I thought you'd just touch me," she wailed.
"I am just touching you," I pointed out. "I'm just using my virgin inspector to do it.
What do you think, Diana? Should I continue or not?"
Diana giggled and nodded. "Why not, as long as it's just in and out."
