[Exhibitionist] The Evolution of an Exhibitionist

[Amy Sue]

Originally Posted by 25baja

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

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.

[Amy Sue]

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.

[mxmsjhnsn1]

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!

[Curiouscouple2469]

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.

[Menorca]

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!

[Amy Sue]

Originally Posted by mxmsjhnsn1

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!

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.

[Amy Sue]

Originally Posted by Curiouscouple2469

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.

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.

[dspatch]

Originally Posted by Amy Sue

Part 7: A Stop in Nevada
(mid 1980s)

When I look back on some of the things I did in the those days, I just can’t imagine what I was thinking. I know we all feel that way sometimes, but I am certain that not long into this story, you are going ask, “What the hell was she thinking?!”. It will probably make you realize that my decision to sleep naked with unexpecting classmates (part 4) was not even close to the strangest thing I’ve done.

It was the summer before I left for college. It starts with my learning which way an egg is facing when it is laid by a chicken, and ends with my first sexual experience – with a boy. (I don’t count innocent experimenting with a girlfriend.)

Whether it be from books and movies, or the talk at school, I had come to believe all the girls my age were having sex. But not me. The preacher’s daughter had been working hard to break away, but I had yet to make a valuable connection with a boy. I think partly because I generally fell for boys beyond my reach, and I expected something meaningful. So, as my move to Gainesville to attend the University of Florida drew close, I was determined not to be the only virgin there. I set out to find a boy and just get it done.

I came close a couple times through the summer. But something always went wrong. At the beach one night, I was straddling a guy I had admired for years. But just at the critical moment was about to occur, I was literally pulled away by my father who had come looking for me past curfew. I was 18 years old, but this had no relevance to my father.

With the clock ticking, I turned my attention to a boy who I knew liked me all through high school. There was nothing really wrong with him, I just never felt that way about him. Nevertheless, I now thought it would be nice for him to be seduced by his high school crush. And my problem would be solved.

I spent the morning in my room listening to one of my Billy Joel albums. The same song over and over. The lyrics were about a woman leaving her old life behind, but first had to make a stop along the way to complete a crucial step in her journey. It was not about losing her virginity, but the tone paralleled that of my venture. It had become a theme for my endeavor. Although I was looking forward to it, I still needed to get worked up. This day should be something I would remember for the rest of my life.

However, there was one thing that had happened a while back that I thought could be a problem.

A few weeks earlier, I did something really stupid. It began like most trouble I caused around this time. I was home alone with my urges. Having spent years in the same house, trying everything I could think of, I found myself now looking through the refrigerator for something new I could use for stimulation. Wanting a break from my usual methods. I decided on an egg. Yes, of all things, an egg. Like I said, sometimes I don’t know what I was thinking.

Lying naked on the kitchen floor, just as I was starting to really get into it, the egg was suddenly, for lack of a better word, slurped far up inside me. I know I should have expected this, but it was not my plan. My worry became panic as I realized the egg was incredibly difficult to extract, particularly considering the way it was facing. I found myself using spoons and other utensils in varied efforts to remove the egg. I was very concerned about the possibility of the egg breaking. What would the jagged shell fragments do to me?

After a long while of fruitless efforts with several devices and many awkward positions, I was sore and exhausted. I collapsed flat on my back and cried. I thought I would have to go to the hospital. This was devastating for me. My father would have to know. No doubt some of the hospital staff attended our church where he preached. I cried hard as I did everything to make one more effort with the spoons.

As I lay there, I could see the vacuum stored away in the laundry room off the kitchen. From what I thought was working best so far, I believed that suction combined with the business end of a spoon just might work. The tube at the end of the vacuum hose was quite large for where I needed it to go, so I added a narrow attachment. I thought the suction might grab, or at least encourage, the egg just enough.

No pun intended; the vacuum idea sucked. As soon as I began this effort, the vacuum aggressively sucked to my flesh. It was very painful as I worked to pull the hose away. For a moment, I thought I was stuck. I was just making things so much worse. As I wrestled with the spoon and nozzle, I began to cry harder. I was bawling and frightened as it finally occurred to me to just turn the vacuum off. But before I could, I saw through my tears, Michael standing on the back deck at the sliding glass door.

I had known Michael for years. I was aware he had a crush on me all through high school, from where we had both just recently graduated. His family was heavily involved in our church. But we were not very close. I don’t recall him having ever come to my house before.

My vision was distorted by the tears, but that was not enough to keep me from seeing the look of shock on Michael’s face. Before I could react, he ran. I wanted to stop him. Even in my current state, I was able to recognize immediately that this was incredibly bad. Our mutual friends, my church, even my parents would be likely to hear that I was having sex with the vacuum cleaner, while crying uncontrollably.

I needed to get to him first. I realized to just pull the nozzle from the vacuum hose to cut the suction. Once free from the vacuum, I raced out the back door, but did not see him. I called for him in desperation, several times, but he was gone. Or maybe he was hiding. I don’t know why I expected he might return. It was quite a scene. I was naked, crying, clutching a vacuum nozzle, with the handle of a spoon still protruding from my vagina, and screaming his name. Not my best moment.

During my continued efforts to extract the egg, it broke. Dealing with the pieces was most uncomfortable, but not as bad as I had feared. My attention turned to the Michael problem. I called his house several times that afternoon, and no one answered. I eventually went over to his house and knocked on his door. His mom said he was not home. I wondered if she already knew.

By that night, I had decided to just wait and see what happens. I didn’t really know what to say to him anyway. And if word got out, I would just own it, like I had learned to do at the hotel when so much of my class saw me naked. Michael was not at the hotel that night. I imagined he wished he was. But he got to see me naked now. I imagined he wished he hadn’t.

Nothing ever came of it. No one said a word. I don’t know if he told anyone, but he certainly didn’t make a big deal about it. I respected him for that. I was never very attracted to him, but this made me feel good about the idea of making him my first.

In my room, listening to that same Billy Joel song repeatedly, I worked myself up into the right mood. When I felt it was time, I got on my bike and rode to Michael’s house. The song still playing in my head as I thought more about the egg incident, and what I would say to Michael. I wondered if he had come to my back door that day with the same intention that was bringing me to his house now.

Anyone who has not seen the movie American Pie, you might want to skip this next paragraph. The movie came out years after these events, but I related very well to a particular moment. I saw a nerdy girl say something that very much reminded me of myself. I could appreciate the contrast between what seemed to be an innocent girl blurt out, “One time, at band camp, I stuck a flute in my pussy.” Watching this movie, I laughed so hard I cried. Many tears, happy and sad, came out of that egg incident.

As I rode my bike to Michael’s house, I decided I would just come out with it. “I put an egg in my pussy.”, I said out loud, just to see if I could. A big part of owning it was to be honest and just come out with it. And for some reason I would have rather he knew I had inserted an egg than he believe I was having an intimate relationship with the vacuum.

I feel lucky that Michael was home that day. A beautiful summer afternoon on the island. It plays out in my head today as if it were a dream. Michael did not ask what I had been doing that day in the kitchen. And I chose not to say anything about it. I don’t remember saying very much at all. I just led him to the woods near our school, where I understood this kind of thing happened.

When we were far enough from the trail, I undressed in front of him, then undressed him. He was hesitant and nervous. But he went along, as much as he could. I don’t know if I was too aggressive, or if he thought he could not compete with a Hoover Upright, but he could not maintain an erection. I still enjoyed the experience a great deal. Just lying on top of him, I loved the feel of our skin touching, the air on our bodies, and being out in nature in such a natural way. This began my fondness for making love outdoors.

When we heard people passing on the trail, he scrambled to get dressed. I tried to hold him there with me and let them pass, but it was just too much for him. I was thought by most to be a “good girl”, although I was far from that. But Michael was a “good boy.” I let him go.

I lay there alone in the woods for a long time, thinking about it all. How I would soon be leaving behind the island, this part of my life with my parents, and my girlhood. It was all so terrible and terrific. I got dressed and rode my bike home while trying to determine if I was still a virgin. I decided that I would consider this my stop in Nevada.



Of course, I do not have pictures from the kitchen or the woods, but I have attached here a few pictures of my 18-year-old self, taken just a few weeks before I took Michael into the woods.

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

[Amy Sue]

Originally Posted by Menorca

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!

THANK YOU!

[Amy Sue]

Originally Posted by dspatch

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

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.