(M/F, exhib,
d/s)
The day
after Jill Miller realized what she was really like, she shaved
her pussy. It was the first time she had done it, and when she
finished,
she admired the result in the mirror. It looks available, she thought.
It
should be available. To anyone.
Before she
dressed for class, she went to her dresser and searched in the
back of the bottom drawer. She pulled out a pair of purple thong panties
a friend had given her as a joke. The friend had assumed Jill would
never
wear them, and she never had. She pulled them on and settled them over
the slit of her cunt.
She put on a
thin top but no bra. She had always worn a bra, but she
thought she might never wear one again. She studied the smallish mounds
her breasts made as they pressed against the top. It excited her to
think that
people would look and know she was naked under her top. Her nipples
made little bumps in the middle of her breasts. People would see those,
too.
She had
always worn jeans to class, but she put on a skirt, instead. When
she was ready to put on her shoes, she pulled a chair over in front of
the
mirror and experimented with crossing her legs and spreading
them, checking
to see how far up she had to pull the skirt to reveal her thong and
shaved pussy.
She thought it would be exciting to lift her skirt for another person.
She
wanted to expose herself. She thought she might cum just from doing
that.
Jill left
her apartment and walked to class. On the way, she passed an alley,
and suddenly she remembered why the idea of lifting her skirt excited
her.
When she was fourteen, she had found a sex magazine in a similar alley.
She had snatched it up and stuffed it in her backpack, looking around
to make
sure no one had seen her do it. When she got home, she locked the door
to
her bedroom so she could look at it in privacy.
The color
pictures in the magazine had excited her so much she humped the
corner of her desk while she looked at them. She only stopped because
she
was afraid she might hurt herself. That night, after an endless dinner
with her
parents, she took the magazine to bed with her. Using a flashlight, she
looked
at it under the covers and rubbed herself until she came. Then she woke
up in
the middle of the night and did it again. The next day, she was
revolted at herself,
and she threw the magazine away.
Jill had
completely forgotten about the magazine and her reaction to it. She
decided she had suppressed the memory because she was trying to be the
good girl
everyone expected her to be, but now she vividly remembered one
particular picture.
It showed a young girl lifting up her skirt in front of an older man.
The girl was
naked under the skirt, and the man had his cock in his hand.
Jill
wondered if back then she had really wanted to be that girl, but
couldn’t admit
it to herself. I’d lift my skirt for a man now, she thought. I’d be
embarrassed, but
I’d be so excited. Especially if the man didn’t know me. Then I’d just
be something
to jack off to. I’d only be an object, not a person.
She thought
about the things she had done the night before. I wanted to be an
object,
she thought. I wanted to be a cunt. I didn’t think I might be a cunt. I
didn’t think
that if I fucked a lot of men I would be a cunt. I didn’t argue with
myself about it,
or try to convince myself it wasn’t true. I knew. I knew I was a cunt.
I knew I’ve
always been one.
Jill stopped
in the middle of the sidewalk. All my life, she thought, I’ve been
hiding
from myself. Fuck, I wish I had exposed myself to a man when I was
fourteen.
Maybe he would have jacked off while he looked at me. Maybe he would
have
fucked me. Oh god, a man fucking me when I was fourteen! She came
without
touching herself, while people brushed past her.
She made
herself continue to class, but when she got to the lecture hall she
couldn’t pay attention. I used to pretend this class was interesting,
she
thought, but this professor just drones on and on. And he’s fat and
bald, and
his shirt’s hanging out of his pants. He probably smells bad, too. I
wonder
what he’d do if I lifted my skirt for him and showed him my thong and
my shaved pussy. Maybe if did, I wouldn’t have to come to this boring
class any more. No, I bet he jacks off to porn all the time. It must be
years
since he fucked anyone. I’d have to fuck him to get out of class.
But then
he’d see what I’m really like, and he’d think he could do me whenever
he wanted. Probably once a week. I’d have to fuck him, because I
wouldn’t be
studying any more. I wouldn’t turn in papers or show up for exams, so
if I didn’t
fuck him, I’d fail. I’d have to fuck whether I wanted to or not. Oh,
god, that’s hot.
Jill could see in her mind how it would be.
I’ll hear a
key in the back door, she thought, and I’ll know it’s him because he’ll
come to my apartment whenever he wants to get off. He’ll use the back
door,
because he won’t want anyone to know he’s fucking someone like me.
Someone
who wants to get fucked. He’ll have a key because I gave it to him. He
didn’t
even have to ask.
I’ll serve
him some wine and try to talk a little, just as though I’m a normal
girl,
but he’ll know better. He’ll tell me to stand in front of him while he
drinks
his wine. He’ll motion with his hand, and I’ll lift my skirt and expose
my
naked pussy for him.
He’ll tell
me to lie down on the couch, and I’ll know he’s going to fuck me.
It’s what I want, and I’ll spread my legs without being told to. He’ll
pull my
skirt up and cover my face with it, because he won’t be interested in
me. All
he’ll want is to get off. He won’t care what hole he uses to do it. It
could be
mine. It could be someone else’s. It could be a plastic jack-off toy.
It’s the way
I want it to be.
I’ll be on
the couch with my cunt exposed and my face hidden, and it will
feel so right to me. I won’t be able to see him, but I’ll hear him
unzip his pants.
He'll use his fingers to open me up, making sure I’m available. Then
his cock
will push into me. His body will press down on top of me, and I’ll
smell his
body odor as he fucks.
He won’t say
anything, because he’ll just be jacking off. He’ll know that’s what
I’m for. And so will I.
He’ll cum,
and I’ll feel him pull his cock out of me. I’ll hear him zip up his
pants. Then his voice will say, “Same time next week.” He’ll
leave without
saying anything else. I’ll reach down without pulling my skirt off my
face, and
I’ll do myself, using his cum as lubrication. I’ll cum so easily, I’ll
probably do it twice.
The sounds
of students getting up brought Jill back to the lecture hall. Class was
over, but instead of leaving Jill picked up her backpack and put it on
her lap.
She slipped her hand under the backpack and under her skirt and pushed
her thong
up inside her. She rubbed herself and came right away.