Illustrated version available on request to Author
For some reason, on this particular night, Millicent moved around her room thinking seriously about what it would be like to show herself off; to actually do it instead of just thinking about it.
Just the idea of it took her breath away. At first she reasoned there was no possible way. It would be much too embarrassing. But the other half of her hormone racked brain really wanted to do it. Before she knew it she was compromising with herself.
Maybe not naked, but just my underwear ... it would be just as exciting and I won't have shown everything.
The idea of inciting lust in whoever was lurking outside had an awfully powerful appeal to the teenage girl.
Millicent avoided looking at her window or even moving close to it. She pretended no one was outside looking in and that helped her past her normal shyness. Next she fiddled around her room, acting as if she was looking for something as she tried to formulate what she wanted to do. This was important. She was going to flash an unknown admirer. Millicent wasn't sure if she actually had the nerve to do it. She wanted too, but would she really do it?
She suddenly realized that she was already starting to undress. Her hands shook as she mentally chastised herself not to remove anything too deliberately so as to alert her watcher that she was doing it mainly for his benefit. She wanted to maintain the charade that she was ostensibly at the very least, not the kind of girl to do something like this on purpose!
And so Millicent strove to repeat as closely as possible the manner in which she disrobed each and every night, only this time the light was on and the shade up. First off came the t-shirt, which she tossed on the bed. Next came the shorts, leaving her in bra and panties.
The sound of her heart beating was so loud in her ears that she wouldn't have heard a train go by outside. There was an unparalleled feeling of exhilaration she had never felt before as she paraded around the room in bra and panties in front of ...
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"Jesus Christ, Brody, would'ja lookit them tits!"
Brody was already focused on Millicent O'Sullivan's magnificent mammaries. They were truly superior specimens, worthy of a Playboy Centerfold, or even the worship given to the finest--feminine bodies in Hollywood.
Brody and his best buddy, Jackie Slattery were crouched behind a massive oak, with Brody having a slightly higher vantage point as they peered into the young teen's bedroom window.
Slattery had noticed Millie prancing around her room in a leotard two nights earlier, and had returned with Brody the following night only to be greeted by a darkened room.
"You gotta see her tits jumping around in that leotard," he'd excitedly told Brody, "Ain't ever been anything like it!'
Brody concurred, he hadn't seen anything like it either and while neither boy knew what Millicent's breast size amounted too, they both hungered to see more of them, and would dream about the possibility of somehow getting to touch them.
And although Millicent wasn't wearing the leotard, she actually had less clothing on then the previous evening. For her show, and yes it was a show she was putting on, she wore a pair of scalloped cotton panties and a pair of white thigh highs.
"Think she knows we're out here watchin' her?" he asked Slattery.
"Oh, I doubt it. I mean, she don't show them off in school, ya know?"
"That's true," Brody said while thinking about seeing her walking the halls at school and sitting two rows from him in Math class without taking his eyes from her jiggling breasts as she mimicked a stripper strutting her stuff in front of a full length mirror.
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Millicent was still posturing in front of her mirror, using it for two purposes: one to determine the best poses to emphasize her breasts, or boobies, and to keep an eye on her unknown admirer hiding behind the oak tree in her yard.
Who could it be? Whoever it is, he's taking a chance being a peeping Tom. What if it isn't a guy my age? What if it's a dirty old man?
"Ugh," she grunted in disgust at the very thought of some old geezer watching her boobies bouncing around the way she was moving. But what if that peeper is a girl, or a woman? Oh my God, wouldn't that be something? Maybe I should tell Cindy about this?
The lithe teen smiled as she recalled that just two months before her breasts were merely apple sized, cute enough, but not anywhere close to those of her mother or her Aunt Clarice, whose bra size was 36-DD. Even Mom is in awe of Aunt Clarice's tits, Millicent told herself.
And Mom's a D cup herself. She's told me I'll probably have a big pair too, and now I'm beginning to think she's right.
Millie didn't understand just yet that she'd broken one of the prime rules of High School: Her sudden growth spurt had catapulted her out of the allocated spot her peers had assigned her.
Her former best friend Erin Russell, felt slighted by her new looks. Her closest thing to a boyfriend was Ernie from the 8th grade that she had yet to date, had become tongue tied and uncomfortable. But the toughest reaction came from the wannabe-prom-queens among her peers.
They started to call her Millie Mams. They said she looked like a slut, leaving her disconsolate and lonely.
So now she looked good but no one talked to her. Then the older boys found her. They weren't necessarily bad boys. In fact they were polite and nice and muscular and she ached for them, but didn't know how to approach them.
"Mmmm," she half hummed aloud, "the other girls won't hang with me now 'cause the horny boys follow me everywhere with their tongues hanging out, hoping they'll get a feel somehow."
She stopped speaking aloud, fearing that whoever's watching could hear her. I'd rather put out for one of the older guys, maybe even a college guy. I see them ogling me at the mall, but can't seem to get them to talk to me. Well, whoever you are, I hope you like the show, she thought and shook her shoulders causing her breasts to swing from left to right in a wild, primitive fashion then broke into a typical teenage fit of giggling.
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Jesus, Brody thought as he watched Millicent's tits swinging from side to side, that's fuckin' awesome!
Then feeling an unfamiliar movement next to him, he turned and caught Slattery jerking off beside him.
"What the fuck? Are you nuts?"
"Can't help it man, I'm so fuckin' hot, you know?" Slattery replied, seemingly unabashed at his actions.