Great story
 

Thanks for these great storys and your cute photo reminds me of how the girls in my high school looked back then that I liked. Boy, I sure wish I knew you in the 80's we could have had a lot of fun. You remind me of the fantasies I had in those days.

Great stories and photos, AmySue! You are awesome!

Thanks for your response and you are as lovely as ever. Great to see the more recent pics along with ones more in the timeline of the stories. Very much appreciate the many replies. :)

Thx a lot: You was a beautiful young girl, you are a beautiful lady now! We all here love your style! What a woman!

You are more than cute, you are a sexy exhibitionist goddess! I am in love!

Amy Sue is...
 

Amy Sue:

hot
beautiful
sexy
has much self esteem
a littlebit horny
very sweet

A wonderful lady!

Bea & Udo

Nostalgic
 

I am very happy you like the stories, and hope you have enjoyed reminiscing about the those special times and people as much as I have.

And I'm grateful for the compliments...

Back at You
 

And you are awesome for letting me know!

That one is great! Should have printed up some mash themed sexy calendars from the photo shoot to sell

Thank you so much for the reassurance that my posts are well received.

I hope you read and enjoy the next part of my story that I will post today. I think it is a bit long and may not hold the interest of everyone. But I struggled to edit or refocus it much as it was a time very special to me. And I believe it is a crucial part of my overall story.

Blushing
 

...I'm totally flattered! ;)

Your list is like the one I keep on my mirror. I can't check all of the boxes every day, but I check as many as I can (and usually the bottom 3).

Thank you both!

Sexy Calendar
 

Thanks!

I always wanted be in a calendar. My M*A*S*H collection would have been a good subject, if only I could market it in 1983.

The Evolution of an Exhibitionist, Part 11
 

Part 11: Always Lorita

Preface:
Vladimir Nabokov was a Russian born writer who later lived in Germany and France before moving to the United States. Although English was his third language (after Russian and French), he somehow authored, in English, one of the greatest novels ever written. I was astounded by the number of words and phrases in the book that were perfectly used and understood, but to my knowledge, did not previously exist in the English language.
Published in 1955, the subject matter of this book is still controversial today. The title is not allowed to be written on this site, as it has become synonymous with its taboo subject. I understand, and do not argue this point. But I ask the reader, and the administrators, to understand that this book and its artistry, not its subject matter, play a significant role in the story that follows. Please forgive that the book’s title has been changed for this reason.


(mid 1980s)

I had auditioned for a summer production at a theater in Savanah, where I hoped to work more toward my goal of becoming an actress. This, and plenty of time at the beach, is how I planned to spend my first summer back home from college. But thanks to my mediocre skills, bad decisions with money, and how easy the banks make it for young adults to get credit cards, I had bills to pay. So, I instead ended up working at an ice cream shop on Hilton Head. This is the type of job available to a 19-year-old with no real work history.

It was a nice privately owned place. The owner made the ice cream himself right there in the store and hired young pretty girls to work the counter. So, dressing cute and peddling sugar is how my summer began.

It was a fun place to work. A lot of people my age would hang out there most evenings, so it felt less like work and more like I was hanging out with friends. After an adventurous freshman year at college, to now being surrounded by plenty of boys my age at my new job, my life had certainly taken a turn from just a year ago when I was the preacher’s virgin daughter. But I had already grown tired of the boys my age. I had caught on to what motivated them. They lacked any maturity and had no interest in anything I had to say, or getting to know who I really was as a person. I still had no significant relationships with anyone that was not entirely sexual.

This was my mindset when John walked into the ice cream shop on my first Saturday night. I wasn’t sure he would remember me, but I thought about him regularly. He was a teacher at my high school, but only started there my senior year. I did not have any classes with him, but every girl knew who he was. He was the most attractive man I had ever seen. (Today I would compare him to Jon Hamm.) He taught English literature, and everyone knew he had a novel published.

When John saw me, his eyes lit up. To my surprise, he called me by name, and asked what I had been doing lately. I told him I was attending the University of Florida and home for the summer. As I served ice cream to his wife and two kids, I asked about him. He told me he would be teaching a summer course in Bluffton. I congratulated him on having his book published, and told him I wanted to read it, but had yet to find a copy. We chatted for only a few minutes before he went off to enjoy the evening with his family. I had already decided I would be taking a literature class in Bluffton.

That Monday I went to sign up. I was told that the class was full, and I could not get any credits for it at my college anyway. I had been looking forward to a great summer back home but just a couple of weeks in, I felt it had already fallen apart. Not a thing I wanted to do was working out.

I arrived for my shift at the ice cream shop thinking about the crappy summer ahead. As I entered the shop, I saw John. He had stopped by to give me a copy of his book. I told him I was interested in taking his class, but they wouldn’t let me sign up. He suggested I could audit the class. I wouldn’t get credit, but I could attend. John stayed and talked with me for quite a while as I started work. At this point, with him having brought me a copy of his book and encouraging a workaround for me to take his class, I realized John was either a very dedicated teacher, or just not a very dedicated husband. Selfishly, I hoped for the latter.

On the first day of class, I wore a corset-style top and short skirt that made a nice presentation of what I thought were my best attributes. Possibly John would respond to a fresh and lively nubile girl in need of his guidance. This would likely be a welcome change to what it must be like with his wife.

I had intended an early arrival to allow time for flirting and to gauge what motivates John. But, as is usual with me, I was late. The class had already started. I peeked in the window of the door and watched him lecturing until I built up the courage to enter. When I opened the door, he looked over at me and smiled. I whispered, “Sorry” and crept along the wall to the nearest available seat. He continued with the class, but I absorbed little of the topic. I was fixated on his rugged handsomeness and his command of the subject and the room. I was already swooning, dreaming of him having such mastery over me.

After class, I waited until everyone else had gone, and approached him to apologize for being late. We talked for a while. I told him how much I was enjoying his book. I purposely stood very close as he leaned on his desk. I took every opportunity to touch his arm or leg as I asked questions about his novel. This led to a conversation about some of our favorite books. It turned out we both were fans of Nabokov. I would have pretended to like whatever he said, but I loved that we truly appreciated some of the same writers. I could have talked all night, but he eventually said he had to go. On my drive home I was enchanted and already plotting my next move.

He told me that he thought Nabokov’s Lorita was one of the best books ever written, so I decided not to play nubile but nymphet. For the next class, I planned to wear my favorite sundress. It was low cut, short, and hugged me in all the right places. I spent that week before the second class reading most of John’s novel and extracting quotes from Lorita. I endeavored to drive John mad with desire for me.

I had prepared several notes with the intention of leaving one on his car after class. They were all quotes from Lorita. A couple were just cute phrases that would be only a little flirty. And one was a bit more daring. I had hoped to flirt with him again after class, and based on how this went, I would decide which note to leave.

This time I was early to class. John was not yet there, so I left a folded note on his desk and took my seat. Soon other students arrived, and eventually John. As soon as he entered the room, I regretted the note I chose to leave. But it was too late. My infatuation had been building all week, and I had spontaneously left him the most daring note. Whether or not he recognized it as a quote from Lorita, it would confess my intentions.

He did not notice the note until he had begun to address the class. He opened it in mid-sentence and lost what he had been saying. The room went quiet as he silently read the note to himself. I was feeling dizzy and thought I might pass out. I couldn’t believe what I was doing.

The note read: “My little cup brims with tiddles.”

John’s face stayed with the paper, but his eyes looked up at me. I hate to think what expression I carried at the time. But I felt a great sense of relief when he smiled. It was a genuine smile in recognition of a good thing. I still felt dizzy, but now for a different reason. John did well to gather his thoughts and return to the subject at hand. Although, I caught none of it, still lost in my own mischief.

After class I thought about leaving with the others, still afraid I had gone too far. But I couldn’t. I just stayed in my seat waiting to hear what he would say. When we were alone, he sat behind his desk and opened the note again. Then he held it up and said, “Cute.” I asked if he knew it was from Lorita, and he nodded. I am not sure if he did know, but it didn’t matter. We both knew what I meant by it.

Then he asked if he could give me a ride home. I told him that would be great, even though this was ludicrous. Bluffton was on the mainland, about 20 minutes by car from my house on the island. He knew I drove there. But we both ignored that for the excuse to go for a drive together.

Never asking where I live, John started driving. Neither of us said very much at first. Then he commented how nice I looked in my dress. I told him I had been reading more of his book, and that I thought about him a lot this week. He admitted he had been thinking about me as well. I mentioned how surprised I was that he remembered my name when he came into the ice cream shop a couple of weeks ago. I had never taken any of his classes, and we had never even spoken before. He told me that he well knew exactly who I was. Reminding that his first year at the school was when I paraded naked in front of the basketball team.

I don’t know if he just wanted to tease me or if this is what he really thought. I knew that he had not been there, but everyone was aware of the event, or at least some version of it. I thought to correct him, that I was not parading, I had been thrown out of my hotel room. But I liked that he had been thinking of me in this way. I started to tell him more of the story, being sure to highlight what he may think are the sexiest parts. Sometimes he would react and briefly touch my leg. As I talked, I discreetly slid my dress up hoping to encourage him. I wanted him to put his hand between my legs.

By the time I had told him the whole story he had parked in a mostly empty gravel lot near the beach. I asked if that incident at the hotel amused him, and he confessed it had captured his imagination. No longer driving, he was now focused on me.

“It captured your imagination?”, I asked.

“Yes.”

“Meaning you imagined me naked.”, I accused.

He took a deep breath but said nothing. I awkwardly adjusted myself in the tight space of his car and pulled my dress up over my head and set it between us. Now naked, I asked him if I was everything he imagined.

This started an affair that lasted most of the summer. It was everything I had hoped it could be. My time with John was my first real relationship with a man. What we shared was so far removed from my experiences with the boys from Florida. The fact that we could only sneak away for short interludes only added to the excitement of our dalliances.

For me, it was not just physical. We made a special connection. I think in part because he was married and breaking the rules just to be with me. This helped me feel safe to tell him anything. And I told him everything.

This was when I learned how truly wonderful it can be to completely share everything about yourself with no fear. I told him about my antics on the golf course, with the garbage men, the boys at school, how I felt as McDonna, and even how I got an egg stuck inside me. We would spend hours making love and I would tell him my deepest secrets. I reveled in the freedom and joy that comes with completely exposing oneself.

I was now used to pleasing guys. But I had found that it pretty much came down to where they wanted to stick what. I enjoyed this too, but with John I reached a whole other level. It was not just about John. He made it about me. He seemed to really enjoy listening to my stories while giving me pleasure. I would often just lay back while he appreciated me with his hands and mouth. My stories would be interrupted regularly as he would bring me to orgasm. It was from this that I discovered how much I love for someone to use their fingers to pleasure me. But to that point, I had never felt more connected with anyone than when he was inside me. With the weight of him on top of me I would wrap my arms and legs around him hugging his hips tight to me when I knew he was ready. I didn’t want him to pull out. The best of all was feeling him pulsate and explode inside me. Long after he was finished, I would insist on him staying in while the endorphins still ran through me, and I could feel myself pulsating. I would ask if he could feel me too. These were the greatest physical experiences I had ever known.

I don’t know if John’s wife ever knew about me, but one day he told me his wife would be taking the kids to her mother’s house in Colorado for a couple of weeks. I told my boss and my parents that I was going to visit one of my sorority sisters in Florida, and spent these 2 weeks at John’s house. It was a small place, but nice and on a private lot. It felt like we were alone on our own little island. Most mornings I would make him breakfast in bed. He exposed me to an amazing world of literature, often reading to me while I lounged around nude in his backyard hammock. We would make love and I was his muse as he would spend much of the day working on his next novel. We also kept a notebook through our weeks together. We would write out our feelings, ideas, poetry, drawings, and love letters to each other.

John knew how to affect me. One night I wrote in the notebook expressing my conflicts. I was the preacher’s daughter, the promiscuous sorority girl, the elementary education major, and now the mistress. The next day I found he added another excerpt from Lorita. “She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms, she was always Lorita.”

I dreamed of a life with John, but I knew it was unlikely to ever be more than a summer fling. His wife and kids were due to return, and I knew he would eventually need to focus on his family again. But we never discussed this. It was just an unspoken darkness looming over this magical time.

One day John surprised me with a gift - ben wa balls. I did not know what this was, but soon learned. They are balls that I could put inside me for pleasure. These were hollow and filled with small weights that would roll around creating vibrations while I moved and walked. I knew this gift was his way of teasing me about the egg thing. He even added a note pointing out that they came with a string attached for easy removal. I did think this was funny, but also got a great deal of enjoyment out of them. Even in recent years, I have made use of ben wa balls to stimulate me through an otherwise boring day.

One afternoon while I was napping with John in his hammock, he was caressing and admiring my body when he told me that I had so much of life in front of me. And that I would have a much easier time getting over him than he would have getting over me. I knew then the time had come.

Before I left, John asked if I would allow him to photograph me nude. I had never knowingly agreed to this before, but the idea excited me. I imagined that he would keep the pictures for himself, hidden from his wife, and one day use them to reminisce many years from now. It seemed so romantic. I wanted to give this to him. And I liked the idea that there would be pictures of me out there in this way, that I would never know who might one day see and enjoy something of me.

He used a couple of rolls of film while I posed for him in the hammock. The sadness of accepting that our relationship had to end was overwhelming. But I didn’t want to leave such a beautiful thing with negativity. So, I did my best to smile and be charming to leave him with images he could treasure.

I was surprised what posing for these pictures did for me. I felt exceedingly sensual. This was the beginning of my fondness for such pictures. I have taken, or allowed others to take, thousands over the years. And this became something that has always brought me joy.

As much as I had hoped to see the photographs John took, I never did. But he gave me the notebook we created together, and encouraged me to continue writing. The notebook meant a great deal, but what he really gave to me I cannot put into words.

I would read the notebook often in the weeks I spent trying to get over John. One day, as he knew I would, I read the last thing he had added. It was a quote from Lorita.

“Human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece.”



I have included a photograph of me from that year.

Another great story Amy Sue. It sounds like a truly wonderful summer. We now all know were your love of naked photos started. Reading your accounts of your past is almost like being there watching it unfold before my eyes. Can't wait for the next chapter. PS I would have bought your MASH calendar

Another fabulous chapter and so relatable.
I can imagine you there, adrenaline racing as you shed your clothes in the front seat.
Taking such risk and the anticipation of the others reaction. The decision that may take it too far or the beginning of something amazingly life changing.

I had a couple girlfriends growing up that would be willing to let me take candid photos of them topless at the beach or if we went away. The excitement of young love.

However; One girlfriend who really seemed to enjoy the thrill of actually posing for me. I loved the rush we would get searching for private spots outdoors or if we had the house for the weekend we could stage a few spots for seductive photos.

I had reconnected with her 30 years later and as two divorced mid-lifers we rekindled the relationship for almost 8 more years.

It was still a thrill to find out she still loved to have her picture taken and we did a number of impromptu shoots. She was still as sexy as ever and still so erotic. It was obviously stimulating for her to pose and re-reveal herself to me as the current matured body version. Naked, vulnerable, excited and so willingly exposed to me. I have treasure a few of those pictures as such exhilarating moments in life. She says she’s never been comfortable enough with anyone else (still claims this today)

So many moments we have locked away in our memories but to have those few captured to look back on and see the smile and look in her eyes the passion we have always shared are priceless moments in time.
We will always have that bond.

Calendar Girl
 

Thank you so much! I really do appreciate the feedback.

PS, If I ever do make the calendar, your copy is free...

Reconnecting
 

That is beautiful. Thank you for sharing your story! I think it is wonderful you could reconnect with her in this way, and can continue to appreciate what was, and for the pictures, what can still be. I am very nostalgic for these romantic times and pictures.

And I am glad to know this part of my story is interesting to some. I feared, as it is so special to me, that I may not be focused on the elements others can enjoy as much. But I do believe it relevant as it certainly affected my development as an exhibitionist.

It looks like...
 

Last pic looks like you are masturbating - hope you'll show us sometimes. Every boy and girl, every woman and man does it, I think... From a young kid until old age...

Your story and your pics are so beautiful, wonderful - and a litttlebit horny! More of all of them! You are the best!

If you ever make the calendar I would gladly buy one. Your photos are awesome. Thanks for sharing and I can't wait to read more

The Evolution of an Exhibitionist, Part 12
 

Part 12: Where Dreams Come True
(mid 2000s)

Preface:

I recently found a picture of me that someone posted on OCC in 2015. It is on a thread called “Theme Park Flashers”. I am not sure where they found this picture of me, but it is not surprising. There are plenty out there. It was fun for me to find this on the site. Through all the years of taking pictures, part of the thrill for me has been thinking they could end up out there anywhere. I just wish they had a better picture. I don’t think it is a nice one of me. So, I decided it is a good time for me to tell about some of my theme park adventures, and include a few pictures.


Starting in the early 1990s I spent about 17 years working at the theme parks and studios in Central Florida. This is where I met Brandon and his circle of friends that produced their own independent films, mostly pulling talent and resources from the people that worked in this environment of fledging production facilities. We would work for the theme parks while auditioning and finding occasional work on the various film and television productions that would come through the area.

We did not make very much money, but it was a lot of fun. Durning this time, we generally had access to the parks, venues, backstage areas, etc. On our days off we would enjoy the pools, theme parks, use the rental boats, bikes, or any other advantage we could find to make the most of this time as young adults.

We could find fun with almost any resource at Disney. Sometimes we would just ride the monorail in the loop it makes from the Magic Kingdom around to several of the Disney resort hotels. A favorite part was the Monorail station at the Contemporary, which is located inside the hotel, as the monorail runs right through the building.

On one of our first dates, Brandon surprised me with a picnic on the roof of the Contemporary where we watched the fireworks out over the lake. They don’t let people up on the roof, he just knew how to get up there. It added to the fun to sneak and feel like we had our own little world around what everyone else enjoyed. So, on the 10-year anniversary of our getting together, I decided to surprise him with an activity that would take us back to the Contemporary.

With our access and experience in these areas, we knew how things worked. I knew the monorail was crowded in the mornings and evenings, but in the middle of the day, there are few people moving between the parks and hotels, so it is easy to get a monorail car all to yourself. At times we had taken advantage of this for a little fooling around, and to just move through our own theme park fun while avoiding the crowds.

Sometimes we would take rental bikes from Fort Wilderness Lodge, ride the trails, and make love in the woods. We would rent the little boats (with our discount) and could speed around the lakes, keeping our distance from people, so I didn’t need to wear clothes while enjoying the sun, water, and the dream-like atmosphere that Disney provides.

On time, while fooling around on the monorail, I developed a fantasy to ride the monorail naked. I had stripped down between stops before, and this was fun, but I wanted to take it to another level. Such experiences for me are significantly escalated with greater risk, when I am more at the mercy of the situation - when I am helpless. I got the idea to not only ride with no clothes on, but with no clothes on board.

We had a large supply of clothes from Goodwill, because this is where we would buy the wardrobe for the independent films we made. So, not wanting to lose my own clothes, my plan was to pick some from the Goodwill collection that I would wear to this adventure. I would surprise Brandon by telling him I wanted to take us out for our anniversary. I would take him to Disney World, to a restaurant that we liked at the Polynesian Hotel. (I had worn a see-through top to this restaurant before. A story for another time.)

However, my real plan was to get on the monorail at the Magic Kingdom, early afternoon when few people are around. Then wait until we can get the last car all to ourselves. I would take off my clothes and throw them out the door just before it closes. After enjoying the ride, and the shock and pleasure this would give Brandon, I would exit at the next stop - the Contemporary.

I knew, from our playing around the backstage areas of the Contemporary, that if you exited the monorail to the left, instead of to the right as you are supposed to, there is a door that leads down some stairs to a balcony. We had previously used this for some private time. It cannot be seen from inside the hotel, but possibly from the monorail trains as they come and go from the hotel. There I knew we could quickly exit left off the train and through the door to the balcony. My plan was to wait there while Brandon went to the gift shop to buy me some clothes. I already knew what I wanted from the gift shop. A long Disney shirt I would wear as a dress, as we continued to lunch at the Polynesian. I thought about staging clothes on the balcony prior, but I liked the idea of extending the adventure and having to wait for rescue.

It was not a prefect plan. We had never before been seen exiting the train this way and going through this door, but that could happen. And Brandon would have to make his way back to this balcony by another route, while I waited naked, hoping not to be discovered. For all these risks, I was only getting more excited. I had been caught many times by this point in my life, and several times the police were called. But I had never been arrested. I guess for all the calls the police get, having to deal with a naked girl is generally a good day. So, my daring increased over the years. I still feared being caught, but when it happened, it became something that I enjoyed when thinking back on my experiences. Admittedly, I had never been caught on Disney property. With their own rules and security, I knew this could be bad.

As with nearly all my shenanigans, whether better or worse, things rarely go as planned. However, this began well. Brandon had a jumpsuit he had worn recently for a movie. It was a one-piece suit like what a janitor might wear. I needed to convince him to wear this on our date, and with no underwear, to be sure he would not have clothes he could offer me when I’m trapped naked on the train. That would greatly diminish the thrill. Although Brandon hated this jumpsuit, it was pretty easy to convince him to wear it when I told him I needed this for his surprise. (All was fair. He convinced me to wear all kinds of stuff all the time.) He figured it was something sexual, but he had no idea what I was up to.

When we arrived, just as I had calculated, there were only a few people waiting at the Magic Kingdom monorail station. While we waited, I mentioned there was a shirt at the Contemporary gift shop that I need him to buy for me, as an anniversary present. He noticed and repeated, “Need me to buy?”.

I thought we still may have to wait for several trains to get the last car to ourselves, but this worked out on our first try. My heart was racing as I went from a causal drive to the park and leisurely walk to the station, to now almost at the moment of shedding my clothes and tossing them away. As I led Brandon to the last car, I thought I was going to chicken out. No one was around us. I could not have asked for a better opportunity, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go through with it, at least not fully. As we waited for the doors to close, I pulled off my top, hesitated for a moment, then I threw it out the door. Brandon was not surprised I took off my top, I did that all the time, but he was shocked I threw it off the train. He started for the door to retrieve the shirt, but the door closed.

He turned to me, “What the Hell?!”

“Like I said, I need you to buy me that shirt.”, I explained.

I told him not to worry, that I had a plan. I knew he was enjoying my antics, but he was very anxious as the monorail pulled out of the station. I could feel my excitement increasing with our speed. I was still wearing a skirt, but I was topless and only a couple of minutes from arriving at a station that may be empty, but could be filled with people. Brandon calmed enough to take some pictures of me. He was always good about that. I was both stressed and aroused by the helplessness I felt. The intensity built as we drew closer to our stop. I started to panic a bit and thought about using my skirt as a full dress, but it was much too short. Although I was often flooded with a variety of emotions during many of my adventures, the sensations always seem new and intense at times like this. As we pulled into the station, I was trying to gather myself, now afraid I would be too dizzy to walk off the train. But if I didn’t exit here, I would surely be caught.

I could see only a couple of people, and no employees from our car as the train came to a stop. I had already told Brandon where we were going, so when the doors opened, we bolted for our hiding place. It was only a few feet from the train to the door, but it seemed farther as it just then occurred to me that the door could be locked. It wasn’t. We made it to the balcony and practically held our breath while waiting to see if anyone was following. After a short time, we were convinced that all was clear. Then Brandon told me that he had no intention of going to the gift shop. I would have to find my way out of the hotel like I was. I knew he was joking, but it still raised my excitement. He took pictures of me on the balcony for quite a while, as trains would enter and exit the station one level above. We debated if they could see us. I had calmed a bit from my anxiety on the train, but as time went on with me no closer to getting dressed, I became more nervous. I think this shows in the pictures.

Eventually Brandon did go to the gift shop to buy the shirt I wanted. He was gone for what seemed like forever. I went through waves of feeling sexy, silly, scared, and bold. I was relieved when I heard the door open. But the legs I saw coming down the stairs were not Brandon’s. I thought someone must have seen me from the train. I panicked and prepared to be caught, but they stopped and sat down on the stairs without noticing me underneath. It was a guy taking a cigarette break. I stood as quietly as I could now fearing that Brandon would return at the wrong time. Eventually, the guy went back inside, and I waited another eternity for Brandon. He finally did show up with my new shirt. I put it on, and we waited there for the next monorail, which we took to the restaurant at the Polynesian – with some fooling around between stops.

This monorail adventure was just one of the many things I did to entertain myself, and sometimes others, during my time around the Orlando area. Another was to enjoy the theme parks, but in my own way.

In Central Florida it rains nearly every afternoon. This is often a downpour, but for less than an hour, then the sun comes out again. I made good use of this. I always enjoyed having my exposures be the fault of other people or even Mother Nature.

I made the most of this weather phenomenon at the theme parks, and other activities around the area. I loved to wear thin white tops and be sure to get caught in the rain. I spent many afternoons at the parks looking as if I was in a wet t-shirt contest, or I could be seen just around the corner taking off my top to wring it out.

One time at Epcot, it rained more than usual. I spent most of the day enjoying people noticing me. Most would take a discreet or quick look, but some would reposition themselves or follow me for a while. There was a group of young men that were making no secret of it. When Brandon and I sat to have lunch, they followed and chose a table across the outdoor sitting area. They were not shy about staring or making it obvious that they liked my shirt. So, I teased them a bit. My shirt tied in the front. I opened it to air out my breasts and top. I enjoyed their attention a great deal, but had to cover up as we started to be noticed by others. I have included a few pictures from this trip to Epcot, and some pictures from the monorail and other adventures at the parks.



Pictures:

Epcot: The Florida rains are a disaster for my hair, but help reveal a rainbow… and some other things.

Epcot: Sitting down to get a bite to eat after playing in the rain.

Epcot: Drying off. A few guys at the other side of the outdoor sitting area kept staring and gave me a thumbs up, so I knew they wouldn’t mind if I aired out a little.

Magic Kingdom: Taking one of many pictures with Cinderella Castle.

Magic Kingdom: On an overlook above the main entrance, with Main Street in the background. Obvious I am nervous, because I am facing a lot of people seated not far away. I was seen by many.

MGM Studios: I am extra nervous in this one because I am facing a large open area full of people, and I spotted an employee (a worker sweeping the street) who stopped what he was doing and looked right at me while I was posing.

MGM Studios: With the Tower of Terror in the background, I am facing a gift shop exit, knowing anyone can come out at any time. No one did.

Animal Kingdom: Posing at the Tree of Life, before the rain came that day.

Monorail: One of the pictures taken while riding with no top from the Magic Kingdom to the Contemporary Resort Hotel.

Monorail station: One of the pictures of me on the balcony at the Contemporary while very nervously wondering when/if I will get a shirt.

Amazing
 

I want to thank you for sharing and ruining any future theme park adventure I might have. I know the whole time there I will be thinking of your experiences and wishing to see it for myself. You're a gem.

WOW, great flashing pics! Love your daring!

Always a pleasure to read about your adventures - and loving the photos…
Many thanks as always

Just one word to story and pics: WOW!

Another amazing story Amy Sue. The photos you posted at the end truly make the story. You captured every emotion perfectly. Can't wait for the next chapter of your fantastic journey

Theme Park Adventures
 

Thank you so much for the nice comments. But I know your future theme park adventures have a good chance of such excitement. At least in Central Florida, I find the parks are always full of girls that did not plan well for the afternoon rain – unless they were looking to have fun like me.

Flashing Pics
 

Thank you! Here is another picture I took when moving through the Disney Beach Club Resort on the way home from a day at Epcot.

My Pleasure
 

Thanks to you for reading and complimenting!

Thanks!
 

…And just a one-word reply: THANKS!

Thank You So Much!
 

Thank you for reading and commenting. I have had many adventures during which I did not take pictures. But I do like to include relevant pictures, so I’ll continue to do so whenever I can.

The Evolution of an Exhibitionist, Part 13
 

Part 13: Acting Up
(mid 1980s)

I was disappointed that I had been making no progress toward my goal of acting. My first summer back home from college was spent working at the ice cream shop, and other distractions. And I had signed up for too many classes and other activities during my semesters at Florida to find time for performing. So, as my second summer back home from college began, I was determined to make time for auditioning. It did not go as well as I had hoped, but I did land a small part at a community theater. I was also back at the ice cream shop, but I was able to work my schedule around the show.

The play featured mostly older women struggling with their husband’s philandering. I played a young woman who was the focus of their hatred. Somewhat ironic when considering my last summer at home, although I don’t believe my affair was ever discovered. My part was a small one with only a few scenes. But it was fun for me. I got to feel pretty and desired while playing up my sexuality. I had several good lines in the final act where I appeared wearing a towel. And as you can imagine, I made something of this.

My character entered this scene in a cute tennis outfit, just back from a match with one of the husbands. (I loved my little tennis skirt, and this began my wearing tennis skirts often for many years.) But, in the scene, after announcing that I was off to have a shower, I had to exit stage left and return about 2 minutes later in a towel to finish the act. This was not exactly a quick change, but it was too much to make it to the dressing room and back. So, I would change into the towel just off stage in the wing. I had a hook, small light, and mirror where I would prepare. No one was around when I changed, except one young man, Tim, who had to be there in position to work the curtain at the end of the show, and for curtain calls.

Actors are generally pretty free and liberal. In the theater, it is common for the performers to change in front of each other. So, no one thought anything of it. But this young man was new to the theater. He was shy and reserved. I sensed the awkwardness during the first rehearsal when I made this change. He seemed to be making an effort to not look directly at me, but I could tell he was making the most of his peripheral vision, as was I.

I was not naked. I kept on my panties and bra, only pulling my arms from under the shoulder straps and tucking them in so I would appear to have nothing on under the towel. But I wondered if this boy had ever seen a girl in her underwear before. From the time I spent around Tim, I had come to believe he was most likely a virgin. And even though I knew he was trying to watch me undress, I also thought he was gay.

As the cast and crew grew friendly, spending a lot of time together at and away from the show, we began to learn about each other. Most knew I had to make a long drive out of town, which I dreaded because I had never done that alone before. For this, Tim gave me a mixtape that he made specifically for me. That is when I realized he was not gay. He had a crush on me. Others started to make comments to me. I remember a girlfriend from the cast told me that, “Tim has the hots for you.”

Through rehearsals I had been enjoying that Tim was discreetly watching me change into my towel. I was wanting to escalate it – thinking of going without my bra. This would be fun with Tim, but also thrilling to be on stage in this way under my towel. But now knowing how Tim feels, I worried it would be unkind to tease him too much.

After our first shows with an audience, I was feeling even sexier in my role. This grew my desire to take it further. My selfishness helped convince me that Tim would want to see more, even if I wasn’t interested in a relationship with him. So, for our first Sunday matinee, I exited the stage for my quick change and took off my top, skirt, and shoes. Then I glanced over at Tim who was obviously pretending to be occupied with his ropes, and I removed my bra.

Through rehearsals I had learned that I didn’t need to rush. I used to get into my towel quickly, but then I would have more than a minute to wait for my cue. So, now standing in only my panties, I fixed my lipstick in the mirror and delayed putting on my towel until I had no doubt Tim had seen me. This gave me a good thrill, but I was still surprised how much my blood was pumping after I wrapped my towel around me and took the stage. I had not had any trouble with the towel before, but now I was very aware that I was in this condition while in front of a few hundred people. I was nervous but loving it.

At the end of each show, I had the choice to change back into my clothes or stay in the towel for my curtain call (when we take our bows). Tim would still be in his place to work the curtain, but the wings by this point were filled with the rest of the cast getting into position for their curtain calls. I felt sexy taking my bow (I would actually curtsy), in my towel. I knew it could be more thrilling to change in the wings with more people watching. But so far, I always stayed in my towel until after the show and then I would carry my clothes back to the dressing room to change.

It was not a private dressing room, but we had curtains behind which to dress, so no one but Tim knew what I wore under my towel. That had apparently become something of a curiosity for the cast and crew. I learned this one night at a restaurant after the show. After having a few drinks, the lead male actor, who I thought very handsome, called across the table to me asking what I wore under that towel. The table fell silent as all eyes turned to me. I was not expecting the question but knew what everyone wanted to hear. I dramatically announced, “Absolutely nothing at all!”

They laughed, but then I noticed a few looks that suggested some really wanted to know. So, I said, “Just ask Tim.” We all looked to him. His face turned red, and his palms turned up. After more laughter the conversation moved on. But Tim and I locked eyes for a bit, and he grinned. I returned a cheeky smile.

For the next few performances, I went without the bra. Tim seemed to relax some, and I noticed him looking my way more. With only a few shows left, I wanted to take things even further. I had been thinking about also taking off my panties. But when the time came, I was too nervous. So, my next idea was to ‘misplace’ my towel. Before the show, I moved it from the hook and placed it on the other side of where Tim would be. During my quick change, I stripped down to my panties then feigned panic as I couldn’t find my towel. I saw it near Tim, scurried over, and whispered for him to hand it to me. He did as I stood in front of him quietly apologizing while fumbling with the towel.

After that show, I asked him if I had embarrassed him. He shook his head. I asked if he had ever seen a girl naked before. He nodded, but I didn’t believe him. He was clearly stunned and couldn’t even verbalize an answer. This really turned me on. I had many times felt desired by men. But I had never really been in a power position. With Tim, I felt like the older experienced one. I was young myself, but this made me feel like Mrs. Robinson. A truly new feeling, and I was loving it. He seemed so innocent and infatuated, and I was in control.

I asked him if I was as pretty as the other girls he had seen. Finally, he answered with words that I was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. I started to wonder if he was smarter and more experienced than I imagined, but I kept going with the fantasy I had created. If he had asked me out, I probably would have said no, but I was a little disappointed that he hadn’t tried.

Our last weekend of performances was the most fun. I made more of a show of changing, even doing a little burlesque style dance while putting on my towel. Tim was now watching me with fewer reservations. He would smile at me, and I would blow him a kiss before taking the stage. By now I was upset that he had not asked me out. I decided to go for it.

While changing during our last show, I was down to my panties when I walked over to Tim and whispered in his ear, “Can you keep a secret?”. Without waiting for an answer, I returned to my place and slid out of my panties. I turned to face Tim and gave him a moment to take it in. He was clearly pleased, but probably not as much as me. I curtsied to him before wrapping my towel around me. Then I skipped over and gave him a quick little kiss before taking the stage. I was so overloaded with endorphins while on stage with nothing between me and all of these people but this loosely fixed towel. My nerves encouraged me to keep a tight grip on the towel through the whole scene. It was not my best performance, but this one was more for me.

After the show, on my way to the dressing room, I was hoping to see the actor who had asked what I wore under my towel. But his curtain call was after mine, so I had to wait for him to pass. When he did, I opened my towel such that he could see only the side of my body, but enough to know I was really naked under the towel. I had a great time with this. Word spread, and by the cast party everybody was talking about my antics. These were fun people, and it was all lighthearted fun. This was the kind of thing for which I had been looking. I loved performing in the theater and getting away with my shenanigans. I really felt like this was where I belonged.

Tim never asked me out. I think he was too intimidated, or at least that is what I told myself. I know if he was more forward, I would have resisted. Human behavior is often quite strange – and I think particularly my own. But I have had such a good time exploring that.




The attached pictures include my headshot from that time, but are otherwise not from that show, just taken that year. I like to provide something of myself to help set the scene of the stories. Please forgive the terrible condition of the pictures. They were salvaged from the mess hurricane Charley made of my house in Orlando in 2004, when much of my collection was lost.

Binge worthy!
 

It's (very) rare that I will sit and read an entire thread and not 'just skim' through it. Moreover, I was genuinely captivated by it. Your storytelling is amazing -perfectly descriptive!

I felt myself actually jealous of Brandon, as his position is my ultimate fantasy... To have a beautiful woman truly have a thrill getting and being naked (or alluding to it) in every setting imaginable and getting to capture it would turn up the fantasy up to 11 for me ;)

So thank you for the mind cinema, it was truly (and fully) enjoyed!
And as an open invite... if you ever want a tag-along on an adventure, I volunteer myself as tribute!

I may need to towel off
 

Another great story and thank you for sharing your inner thoughts and secrets with us all.
I seem to relate to so many chapters of your antics.

Many years ago - I was witnessed to a similar opportunity when my GF at the time would babysit for a newly divorced “older woman” (probably late 20’s) we were teens.

As she would prepare to go out on a date, she would parade Around doing her hair and make-up wearing a towel or short thin negligee.

As she lifted her arms to dry her hair her lower half would peek out from under her outfit. She would watch me in the mirror as I was squirming in my seat watching her.
(I Still have a thing for watching a woman apply make up)

She often let the negligee fall open as she applied her eyeliner or walked from room to room or sat to chat with us.

I sat mesmerized by her beauty. Mouth wide open, I would watch every move she made. Catching the intended flashes.

My gf just laughed at me and told me to “wipe my chin, You’re drooling”.

I have always remembered it so fondly as a one of the many coming of age thrills.

Sensing the woman also got as big a thrill, or at least that was the hope.
It’s refreshing to hear the womens perspective of similar antics.

Your pictures through out this string have been so lovely and your wonderful recount of what was going on inside your young mind and body is fantastic. I look forward to each entry as they get me thinking of days gone by.
Hearing you describe your own versions is such a thrill to read and imagine being there.
Warm wishes.

It's crazy!
 

A fantastic girl former, a fantastic woman now, hot stories, sweet, sexy, horny pics - everything is perfect.

Brandon must be so lucky for such a fantastic lady!

Binge Worthy!
 

Thank you for reading my story, and for the delightful compliments. It motivates me to think at least some people are reading most, if not all, of my thread. I love telling my story, and that would not happen without you and the others who read it.
Comments like yours make me feel that lowering my inhibitions, and living the way I have, is not wrong. That what pleases me is something that not everyone would question or condemn. Thank you for this, and I hope you continue to enjoy my story.

I May Need To Towel Off
 

Thanks for sharing your story. I enjoyed reading the perspective from your side of such an encounter. Certainly, she was aware of what she revealed. It is rare I don’t realize my exposures. Most women are very aware of themselves in this way – all the time. And when it registers with me that a slip did happen, it excites me to think how others must have noticed. No doubt she was watching for your reactions. I cannot tell you how much time I have spent trying to discreetly observe men watching me. Knowing someone has sexual desire for me gives me feelings that sometimes exceed the physical acts.
I can’t speak for all women, but I don’t know any who wouldn’t take pleasure from being admired. It is in our nature. Many, including myself, will sometimes pretend to be offended by ogling or crass comments. Maybe to avoid embarrassment or to seem above such behavior. But it is usually an act. I do appreciate a more poetic approach, but when a guy is leering, drooling, or making crude offers, it leaves no doubt in me for the affect I am having on him. Whether they admit it or not, nearly all women crave this – probably as much as men crave women.

Clever title - and, of course, I appreciate your flattering remarks.

I love these white skirts and dresses. Did you wear a slip or just panties under them?

It's Crazy!
 

THANK YOU!

Undergarments
 

Thanks for your question. I am glad you like the dresses and skirts. When I was younger, in the pictures with the longer dresses, I usually would wear a slip. With the skirts, I often wore tights / pantyhose but sometimes just panties or nothing, particularly as I got older.