My heart is racing knowing that people are reading this! I will finish this part now and tell you my story of a year ago next time I come back to my American friend’s house.
So there we were just inside the doorway feeling very exposed and yet thrilled at the same time. He tells me I can change anywhere, and indicates that there is also a lav, as if having privacy to change was an unusual but acceptable option. I’m about to scurry off when I realise <Change into what?>!
He stops to think before he answers. He points out that he should be more nervous than I am right now and he looks down at himself to prove the point. I was so concerned for myself that I did not noticed that his wet white underwear were offering less coverage than my clingy tank top, and his hands were occupied holding our untouched drinks from the pool so he was not able to cover as I was. I embarrassed myself when I realized that I was staring and quickly looked back up hoping he did not notice my leering. Then he had the nerve to add that he might offer me something else, but he could tell I was enjoying myself. At the time I was mad. I don’t know if it is because he would not help, or because he was right. I scampered off to the lav and he called out that he would leave my drink on the table and that he was going to put something dry on as well.
I closed the door and was happy to see that there was a lock on it. There was a small window that was too high for anyone to see into but I closed the curtains anyway. I considered hanging up my clothes and waiting in here. It was a warm day and my shirt and panties were made of thin material so they would dry within an hour even inside. But I suppose the safety of the locked room allowed me to calm down and think. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror still wearing my wet things and though that maybe I did look ok. No matter what I decided the first step was to hang up the shirt and panties. So I dried myself off with a very soft towel and put on my only 2 pieces of dry clothing. I had to admit that the bright orange looked good on me and that’s when I realised that I was going to go out there. That awkward excitement grabbed hold of me again. Now I know no one could tell that I did not have panties on under my skirt, but somehow it I felt exposed, yet free, liberated, yet naughty. I took a deep breath and stuck out my chest then did my best to muster a confident walk as I went out to socialise with my host.
He was in the kitchen mixing another drink for himself while mine sat still full and sweating on the table. He had changed but I think he was still in underwear. They were dark navy and they could have been a Olympic style swim costume except the material appeared too thin and they came down his legs several centimeters. He told me that if I didn’t like the drink I had he would make me something new. He also asked if I wanted to sit outside and enjoy the last of the sun or stay inside. I certainly was not going out like this so I suggested we stay in. He looked at me a couple of times when he spoke, but there was no staring, no shock in his eyes, no smirk on his face. The only thing that indicated that he knew I was so exposed was a compliment to my <outfit>, but he said it the same way you might compliment someone’s shoes and only with a brief admiring glance.
We sat on his couches and talked. It started out as awkward <small talk>, that is just a term we use when you talk about nothing at all. But then he quickly addressed the only thing running through my mind. We were here trying to act normal when things were not normal at all! He tries to tell me stories about how this is normal. Not every day normal, but normal enough that I should not feel like I am the only person in the world who had this odd desire to do something wild like this. He then tells me that this is not even wild. He tells of a party he was at where at least 20 people got into a pool and no one had more than their underclothes on, some of the guys were completely naked and some of the girls were topless! I already can’t believe it is true when he tells me of another time when he was with 2 guys and 2 girls at a normal public beach at night and they went completely naked and swam. The guys I can believe, maybe, but who are these girls? If they exist, I want to meet them. He can tell I don’t quite believe this is possible and that’s when he says haven’t you ever been on the internet?
Now internet here is very expensive, even he admits that, and I use it quite a bit but I only check at internet cafes and I still have no idea how the internet plays into this conversation. He runs off the grab a laptop and comes back to sit awkwardly close to me. He’s fast on a computer and within seconds he finds pictures that make my jaw drop. For the next while I don’t think I closed my mouth or blinked. White people are crazy! He hands me my drink and I start sipping it faster probably because I nervously wanted to occupy my hands. When the drinks are empty he goes to get more and leaves me at the controls. He had a way of searching for specific things but I can’t figure out where he typed so I just keep clicking. He comes back and I am too embarrassed to tell him about the things that I want to search for and carry on looking at things that I still don’t believe. I am constantly looking over my shoulder as if someone will catch us at any moment. After more drinks I start to draw attention to some particular pictures that peak my interest without letting him know what that interest is.
I might say <I can’t believe that one!> at one girl covering her friends otherwise naked breasts. <Do you think they actually kissed?> again 2 girls. Eventually he figures it out and says he thinks he knows what I am interested in. He does a search and this new world which was already crazy enough just got crazier. Now I am seeing girls do everything imaginable to other girls. I find myself covering my eyes but still looking through the cracks of my fingers as he laughs at me. We look at pictures, we talk, he tells more stories and comparatively I am starting to feel quite modest in my bra. He goes for another round of drinks and leaves me back in control. I can’t bring myself to look at the really dirty ones but I really enjoy the playful pictures and the freedom that I see. While he is away I am suddenly conscious that I have sloughed over and it looks like I have a fat roll so I immediately sit up straighter. As I am adjusting I realize how sweaty I am between my legs. I have been pressing them together hard for a long time now because of my squeamishness about not wearing panties. I reach up to wipe the inside of my legs and of course he walks in right at that moment. He tries to suppress a smile but does a poor job of it. I know he thinks I was doing something else but when I try to explain he just says that it is ok, but I know he thinks something else was happening. We resume looking at pictures and even some video. Even though he is back to being close to me, I spread my legs slightly to try to stop the profuse sweating and it feels exciting and naughty especially because there is a soft but continual breeze coming from the open window. Although with my newfound knowledge, I now know this does not even approach naughty.
For the next while he suggests a few things that would make the night even more <fun>. He suggests taking some pictures, but I just can’t see myself doing that. He suggests we get naked but that is still too much. He almost convinces me to <flash> him and I was close to doing it, I even stood up and giggled nervously for a few minutes before I sat down convinced that I could not do it. He then flashed for me even though I did not ask, just to show me how easy and fun it was. It was actually a lot more than a flash. His underpants were down for at least 10 seconds. I turned my head away immediately but my eyes were looking back at him, and it, most of the time. I still did not return the favour
I’d come far enough into this world in a very short period of time and he and I both realized I was not going any farther. It was now very late he very matter of factly told me where I would sleep. He was wise to offer a separate and obviously unused room because it already seemed dirty to stay in a single man’s home un-chaperoned. I’d only been living on my own for about a year and I was not quite used to having no one to answer to. More and more people are moving out at my age but around here it is still not that common for a woman to move out of her parents place until marriage. But here I was with no one to answer to but myself so I agreed, which also added to the feeling of freedom that I got out of that night.
Then came the best part of all and I did not even realize the implication until later. He said do yourself a favour, don’t sleep with any clothes on and take the laptop with you. He also made sure I knew where to find him if I needed anything and that he would leave his door open. I took his advice and actually surprised myself at how quickly I got urges now that I was alone. I reached down to touch myself and realized that he knew what I was going to do before I did. I wondered if he was doing to same thing and for a brief moment I wondered if maybe I should have been more forthcoming. However that passed quickly as I got distracted by my own activities. I slept very well that night.
|