When I met Luke, I was an awkward teenager just finished high school. He was 25 and, in my eyes, a suave, successful businessman. Our first week together was a whirlwind of sex - he was my first lover.
"Let me shave you," he offered after our first night together. "I want to go out with you knowing that you're bare under your skirt."
The thought of being Luke's sex object excited me, so I encouraged him do as he pleased with me. I let him dress me in short skirts and have me hobble around in ridiculously high heels. Knowing that it gave him pleasure made me feel sexually very powerful and, as an 18 year old, it was a completely new feeling.
"I want to do anything that makes me sexy to you," I told him, as we hugged each other the second time we slept together.
"Anything?" he murmured, with a little smile on his beautiful lips.
+ + +
By the time I turned 19, I'd had a year of Luke instructing me to wear tighter, smaller, shorter and more see-through clothes and higher and higher heeled shoes.
"I love seeing you show off for me," he'd whisper in my ear when we noticed other men watching me. He'd often slide a hand under my skirt to check if I was wearing panties.
"Good girl!" he'd say, as he pushed my stretchy skirt several inches down my hips and slid a finger between my butt cheeks as we kissed in public.
We went through all sorts of phases with sexy clothes but, back when I was 18, Luke's favourite was having me wear bras and tops that were too small for my 34C breasts. The tops he'd choose would squeeze my tits up and, occasionally, out of my tops.
"Here, honey, try this on," he'd say in a shop, holding up a garment made for a girl quite a bit smaller than me.
I'd walk out of the change rooms with it zipped up as far as possible, but my breasts wobbling precariously, sometimes even my nipples brazenly showing. Often, we'd just try on these things for fun but, sometimes, he'd buy them for me and then expect me to wear them out.
"Do you like me like this?" I'd ask him when I wore our favourite low cut dress. My boobs stretched the material out so far that the tiny dress barely covered my nipples. I got lots of stares in that one and, a couple of times, was refused entry to restaurants.
"I'm afraid you can't come in here like that, Miss," the doorman would say.
Luke would crack me up completely by saying, with a straight face, "Don't you like her tits?" We'd both giggle uncontrollably as the doorman would blush and stammer some excuse.
That would be my signal to put my hands inside my dress and stretch the fabric to cover my boobs a bit more. Only thing was, when I did this, the dress would ride up, exposing my g-string a good few inches.
"Is that better?" I'd ask, rubbing my chest and pushing my breasts out in such a way to make it clear that I was virtually naked below the waist.
+ + +
For most of our first summer together, I had an outfit that Luke would go wild over. It was a very short skirt - so short, in fact, that the bottom of my g-string poked clearly out the bottom. For anyone who got a look when I was standing still, they'd see the little pouch just holding my pussy lips in.
"I'd love it if you accidentally let your g slide up between your lips," Luke whispered to me when we were sitting outdoors at a cafe.
Already, the waiters were hovering, getting glimpses at my little pouch, which was increasingly obvious the longer I sat, as my skirt rode higher and higher. Eventually, if I didn't adjust it, the skirt would become just a band of fabric around my waist and, to a passer-by it looked like I was just wearing a brief g-string.
"I don't know if I dare to," I whispered back, "There are quite a few people around and it's broad daylight."
I crossed my legs while I made up my mind and then, in an impulsive moment, decided to do as Luke asked. I reached down and pulled the g up between my lips, not so it was invisible, but almost. I then leaned back in my seat and parted my legs a little as I stretched them out.
"That's totally amazing!" Luke gasped quietly, when he saw. I got so horny showing my pussy in public that I started to become more and more daring and, a few times, I'd even let Luke talk me into going out in public places without panties at all.
+ + +
Luke also experimented by buying me skimpier and skimpier dresses. Once, he made me go to a bar in one that was backless with such a low front that my breasts kept spilling out the sides.
"I keep falling out of this one!" I complained, trying to push my breast back under the fabric.
"Just sit there and let everyone look," Luke would insist. He held my hand tightly so I couldn't push myself back in, until he was sure several people had noticed.
"I know you love it!" was Luke's usual comment.
And, you know, he was right.
When I knew my body was on display and guys were watching, it was very hard for me to stop touching myself. At night, it was much easier, because in a crowded club or bar it was possible to lower my hand and slide a finger around my wet pussy lips, but during the daytime it was nearly impossible to do it without being noticed.
"I love it when you touch yourself," Luke would say to me and, at home alone, he'd often ask me to masturbate in front of him. He'd wank as well and, just before either of us came, he'd slide into me.
+ + +
"I love you in fishnets, darling!" Luke said once, as we browsed through pantyhose racks in a department store. "Especially in the wider mesh," he explained.
The wide mesh let him see my pussy through the crotch, of course, and would allow a finger, or two, to enter me when we were out together. He especially liked it when I wore these stockings with little dresses that didn't quite cover my butt.
"That guy's looking at you," he whisper when he'd notice someone observing my butt cheeks. "Bend over for him!"
I'd bend just a little at first, giving a glimpse of my shaved pussy pressed up against the mesh. Luke would usually tell me to adjust my shoe or he'd deliberately drop something, so I'd have to bend all the way over from the waist. If I stood with my legs wide apart, I'd give a full view and, usually, get more than one person looking.
Of course, I was into high heels, too, from that age, and Luke bought me my very first pair. They were chunky black strappy ones with a three inch heel. I found them a bit tricky to walk in for a while but, I persisted, and soon Luke was buying me strappier and higher shoes.