We've got to be who we are.
Author's notes: Everyone is over 18. This was written for the
Literotica Nude Day Story Contest 2024
.
>>>>>
Jamie was an incredible athlete, well built with large pear-shaped breasts that stuck straight out of her chest. She was rounded in every place that should be and flat in every place that should be. Her body was hard and tanned with no tan lines. It wasn't that she exposed herself. It was that she used a large window on the west side of her house. Where others laid out in their backyards to titillate any who were usually encouraged to peek through the hedges, she modestly lay on the floor of her bedroom with the sun shining through her open window. Her only danger of being seen was when she went to open or close the window, but perhaps in the deep, dark closets of her mind, she really did want to be seen.
Meticulous in her grooming, her legs, armpits, and vagina, of course, were waxed often, and she had a drawer full of incredibly daring bikinis that she never wore in public. When she went to the beach or public pool, she always wore one of two one-piece, very conservative suits. Sometimes at night, though, she would don one of her most daring suits and just hang around the house, not closing the curtains. So, yes, maybe she did have a desire to be seen. When in the gym, everyone told her how hot her body was, and guys hit on her everywhere all the time. But she was shy.
Tonight, she had had three glasses of Chardonnay rather than her usual one. That knot had formed in her belly that made her pussy warm and open and wet, and tonight it made her strip off her bikini and sit on her front porch with the lights out, of course. Jamie loved the caress of the cool air of the night on her naked flesh as she relaxed into the padded swivel rocker and the eroticism of the possibility of discovery. Breathing in short panting breaths, she found herself spreading her legs indecently onto the arms of the rocker. Fighting an internal fight she always lost, Jamie began to stroke her thighs closer and closer to her pussy until she abandoned all decency and the admonitions of her mother and touched her clit, arching and moaning.
Oh, how she loved the feeling of being touched there, and her nipples, her neck, her ass, her thighs, really anywhere, everywhere. It was good when she did it, but over the top when done by someone else. Even better was when she felt the skin on skin of another's chest on hers. She was no virgin, but she could not be classed as experienced much. Her few contacts were short-lived as it seemed they or she lost interest in the other once this eight-hundred-pound gorilla question of sex was settled in their relationship. She especially loved it when a new lover stripped her.
Oh, she thought of one of those times as his eyes gazed over her trembling body. Not trembling in fear but sheer erotic overload. She arched and penetrated herself with her fingers squealing.
Jamie didn't move her finger, just left it still, her thumb resting on her clit. With each second, the sensations multiplied, releasing endorphins into her blood and making every muscle in her body tense. Sensations upon sensations mounted as she catch-breath, panting in short intakes of air until her lungs could hold no more, and then a strange thought slashed across her mind. A silly, sick, stupid thought.
Her porch had seven steps to a sidewalk that paralleled the front of the house to the right, meeting the driveway about thirty feet away. At the corner of the sidewalk and driveway was a light post with a solar-controlled automatic light. Of course, it was burning bright. Her lawn sloped away to the road about twenty feet away.
"What if I did this on the steps?" she thought.
This was the silliest thought she had ever had.
Jamie "Harrumphed" aloud.
Then, the knot suddenly burned as bright as the driveway light. So suddenly, she actually startled, forcing her finger in deep and her thumb to press hard on her clit.
"Oh, fuck," she whispered.
Pulling her finger from her now soppy wet pussy she lowered her legs and sat a moment on the rocker, her breaths short, staccato bursts of air. Trembling, she rose, the muscles of her strong thighs barely able to keep her upright. Half step by half step, she approached the top of the steps tentatively. Looking both ways and seeing no one or vehicles, Jamie tentatively stepped down onto the first step. Slowly, she took each step until she was standing on the little sidewalk. Again, looking in both directions, she sat on the first step and, releasing a faint whine, stretched out and spread her legs. As an athlete, this meant they were almost in a full split.
As she looked down at her body, it was clearly illuminated by the light no longer hidden in the shadows. The shadows of her rock-hard nipples danced on her tits with each breath. She catch-breathed again as the cold stone of the steps behind touched her naked back as she lay back. Laying her head back onto the step, she groped her tits, pinching the nipples several times, sending lightning bolts of pleasure directly to her pussy. Groaning, she found her pussy with her right hand and flicked her clit several times, inserted two fingers, and began to stroke. Soon, she was moaning and arching until finally she arched, squealing much louder than she wanted, and an arc of squirt watered the lawn, leaving a streak across the little sidewalk.
Panting and trying to catch her breath, she slowly relaxed until, in horror, she realized what she had done and where she had done it. She sat up, crossing her breasts with her arms as if someone saw her, rose, and raced into the house.
The next day, Jamie, horrified at what she had done, gathered her garden hose, some soap, and a push broom and cleaned the entire sidewalk. She was so ashamed she wore a turtle neck sweater and a long skirt, in July!
Even through the shame, she felt the tingle of a knot again forming in her belly. In the morning at work, it wasn't too bad but grew throughout the day as she got compliments on her turtle neck that just happened to be tight-fitting, accentuating her breasts. She found herself thrusting her chest out rather than slumping and trying to hide them as she usually did. The compliments felt good, and by mid-afternoon, when that cute salesman, Michael, complimented her, she had the wild, silly urge to take her turtle neck off. When this thought slashed across her mind, she almost panicked. She had never, ever thought of doing something like this before.
At her afternoon break she rushed off to find Marge. Marge and Jamie were the poster children for best friends forever. They had known each other since kindergarten, and Jamie had been Marge's maid of honor at her wedding last year.
"Can we talk, please," Jamie begged, half dragging Marge down the hall to an empty conference room.
"What's the matter, Sweetie?" Marge asked, concerned.
Well, even to your best friend, how do you address something like what Jamie had done and how she was feeling? She tried several times to start, but soon, in a hail of gibberish, she just broke down in tears.
Cuddling Jamie close, Marge just said, "Why don't I you come over after dinner? You can tell me then what's bothering you. You will be all right until then, won't you?"
Nodding, Jamie assured Marge she would be all right until then.
Jamie got caught up in a project after that, and it was good because it took her mind off what she was feeling.
As they settled on the couch with a glass of chardonnay, Marge cooed, "So, what's wrong, J,"
"Let me show you something it will be easier to understand," Jamie sighed, just this side of tears.
Together, they took the stairs to Jamie's bedroom. She led Marge over to her dresser and opened the drawer containing her scandalous swimwear.
Holding up one of Jamie's sexiest and most daring suits, Marge, wide-eyed, exclaimed, "What in the world?"
Essentially the suit was two small triangular patches of see-through material that supposedly covered the nipples and another slightly larger triangular piece of the same see-through material that supposedly covered the pussy. The rest of it was just delicate strings.
"When did you get these?" Marge whispered. "All I've ever seen you in are suits that look more like wet suits."
Tears rolling down her cheek, Jamie said, "I've been buying these for a couple of years now. I only wear them at home."
"Why? For god's sake, Jamie, you have a body to die for. Why don't you show it off?" Marge cooed, wiping the tear from Jamie's cheek.
"I don't know," Jamie replied, lowering her eyes, submitting to her mother's ingrained morality.
"But that isn't the worst of it. Come on, let's go back downstairs."
Jamie trooped down the stairs like a condemned criminal while Marge, still holding the incredibly sexy swimwear, led the way.
"So, what's the worst of it?" Marge asked, taking Jamie's hand.
Jamie opened up honestly as both of them, best friends, had done many times. She related how she sat in the bikini and then stripped it off. How she had touched herself right out on her porch. Then, how she had the overpowering urge to sit on the last step and masturbate, squirting onto her sidewalk. She told of how ashamed she was of her actions and how she had scrubbed the sidewalk and dressed in a turtleneck sweater and long skirt to hide herself, only to get compliment after compliment. Each of these compliments added to that knot growing in her belly until she had the shameful thought to take the turtle neck off and show herself off. The worst was it wasn't just a thought. Jamie confessed she wanted to take it off. She wanted them to see her beautiful tits, her large pink areolas, and her long hard nipples. In fact, it took all of her willpower not to, and with the culmination of her story and the shame piled on shame she felt, she broke down in blubbering tears.
Marge now, as both had done for the other many times over the years when they were in some sort of distress, boyfriends, parental problems, whatever, marshaled her assets for the coming struggle. After cuddling and cooing to calm her down, Marge picked up her phone.
"Let me call Bill and let him know I won't be home until later," Marge said, dialing her phone.
After hanging up, Marge cooed into Jamie's ear, "Why don't you put this on?"
Between sniffles, the distressed Jamie sputtered, "What?"
"You feel comfortable in it, don't you?" Marge asked.
"Well, yes, but," Jamie began.
"No buts, just put it on, Sweetie," she whispered, smiling.
So, Jamie stood and, a little self-consciously, began undressing. Although both had seen each other naked before, it had always been a mutual thing, in the gym shower or changing room. It had never been a situation when she was naked, and Marge clothed. That knot, though, in her belly noticed and began to heat up. Once she had positioned the little triangles to cover her nipples and pussy, Jamie looked at herself in the mirror across the room. The bikini was ridiculous. She was as good as naked. The difference was her nipples and pussy were an odd shade of reddish-green as the transparent green material tinted them. Then the knot began to heat up even more, and she knew her pussy was opening up, leaking.
"Now, don't you feel better?" Marge asked, sitting back.
"Well, yes, I guess so," Jamie replied.
