Breast Obsession

I did my best to hold my anxiety in check when I was around her. Dwelling on and imagining what may have happened to her was eating away at me. Especially as I had detected a change in her ever since she had gone to their pool. She became very noticeably withdrawn, and tended to be cranky at times and snap at me when I would say certain things, as if I were putting pressure on her. I had been uptight. And now she was uptight too. Which just made me even more uptight.

I sort of felt like I could tell that something involving her breasts happened that caused her to be uncomfortable. Whether they just made comments about them, or went so far as to touch them and/or see them. Could have been while she was in the pool, or in a room getting changed. Especially since I had already overheard stories of the nuns picking their moments to walk in on some of their other pool guests while they were changing. And then also having heard that they even walked in on one or two of the newer nuns in the convent who would be in a state of undress also aroused my suspicion.

As the summer went on, my thoughts were getting the best of me. When I thought back on being stripped down to my jock in front of Sr. Mary Francis' aunt, with her plucking at my strap, and then jacking me off in the shower, it would sexually arouse me. I started masturbating regularly to the memories, though I was very hesitant to want to experience that bear hug she put on me in the shower again, I felt very embarrassed to go over there to mow her lawn and see her again, with how she made me feel weak and vulnerable. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Yet the pseudo sexual attention was more than Ellen had been giving me, so there was a kind of positive side to the whole thing. I wound up going over there to mow her lawn a few more times that summer and into early autumn, with a similar "complimentary" shower each time.

My thoughts on what may have happened to Ellen had started to get the best of me. It continued to eat away at me, as I just knew something happened, but had no idea what. I really wanted to know, and just had an idea I would never come to learn of exactly what happened.

These thoughts were all coming to a head when the mothers' guild had a private picnic in a country club park toward at the end of the summer in late August. I had reached a point where I just had to act out. The combination of feeling excited by being exposed to an older woman as I had been, together with the accounts these women shared with each other that I overheard, and the madness of knowing that something happened to Ellen with the nuns but not knowing what, all led me to want to, to need to, do something drastic at this picnic.

I decided I was going to streak across the country club park during the mothers' guild private picnic.

I knew how I could emerge from the trees about 100 feet from the picnic table area, run across the field and into some trees and brush where a parking lot was on the other side. I could have my car there and just jump into it and drive off after running across the field. I could wear something on my head to conceal my identity.

I was very nervous waiting in the woods, waiting to feel ready to go. But I just felt ultimately that I "couldn't not" do it, and I let that feeling overtake me to leap out there and go for it, running as fast as I could. I chickened out from going fully nude, and decided to do it in my jockstrap instead. Anyway, the idea of being exposed to women in my jockstrap was a turn on in and of itself. And my thought process was that with the nuns there, it would probably be better if I weren't completely nude.

And so during their 12-4 Saturday afternoon gathering, shortly after 2 PM, I did my thing. The streak across the field from one side to the other, staying at least about 100 yards away from where they were gathered must have lasted all of 30 seconds. I ran my fastest across the field, wearing only a full head Halloween mask, my jockstrap, and socks and sneakers. With all that was racing through my mind as I was racing across the field, I think I may have heard an "Oh my God" and a surprised "What!" or "Huh?", but not too much else. I can't even be positive about who may have noticed me as I couldn't see well out of the mask and didn't look their way. I considered that maybe there was a chance none of them noticed, and that the naughty stunt was all for naught.

As I drove away in my car, I felt a lot of different emotions rushing over me at once. Nervous, scared, but yes, a rush! Maybe they had seen my black car driving off in the distance, but luckily a considerable percentage of folks in the area have black cars too.

Not that she ever found out about the stunt to my knowledge, but shortly thereafter came the beginning of the end for Ellen and me. She remained withdrawn. My sexual desires were not being fulfilled, and the whole thing just seemed no longer worth the effort. We were just both constantly uptight, and I believe it was because we were holding back and just wouldn't let it go and get it out of our system. It never seemed to get better. Besides, we had gotten lost in our post college careers and lost touch as we drifted apart.

Chapter 6

In moving on, I looked back on my stunt and felt like I wanted to experience more of this being seen in my jockstrap, but in a way that's much less risky, perhaps even accepted. It led me to join a male strip-o-gram club that was based out of a city about 20 minutes away from me. The club rules included no full nudity and no sexual contact. But occasionally those rules got broken just like driving the speed limit. In my experience, the ladies in most homes I went to for a private party were very respectful. Then men usually started in an outfit chosen over the phone by the lady ordering the strip-o-gram. Outfit choices included policeman, fireman, doctor, athlete, and even a priest, which I wore to one bachelorette party upon request. My role was to take a "last confession" of the bride to be, before the music would start playing and I would start stripping. I didn't really enjoy being a priest, and thankfully I only had to do it once.

There would always be another guy who accompanied me and brought the music, party favors, etc. In the beginning I was paranoid he might rat me out if anything happened against club rules. But either of the 2 guys who would usually come along turned out to be cool, which was good because occasionally things would get out of hand, especially when there would be drinking involved.

The outfit I had to wear that was the most fun was the police officer uniform. I would show up in the uniform, I'd say there's been a complaint of too much noise and ask who's "responsible", and they would point to the one the party was for, whether it was a birthday, bachelorette party, or any other special event. On 2 separate occasions, they had arranged beforehand to have me place the lady of honor "under arrest", and handcuff her. One time I just stripped in front of her while she sat in a chair handcuffed. The other time they had me leave the room for a bit after I handcuffed her and they placed a blindfold on her (and then presumably subjected her to things), before having me come back in and strip.

I was not prepared for one particular assignment...placed by someone I knew.

One of the mothers from the mothers' guild had called up, as they were having a surprise birthday party for one of the other women in the group, and wanted to hire a male entertainer for a half hour. When the owner of the club gave me the address for the gig before being told the name, I had suspected right away that it was too close to home, literally, and that this could be trouble. The clincher was when he gave me the last name, and it made me wonder who from the mothers' guild that was around when I was hanging around the school would still be there, and which of them might be showing up.

I had not been to the school to do any work around it for the nuns in a few years, and I wasn't sure who from the mothers' guild was still there, and who might still remember me. The order had been placed about a week and a half in advance for a Saturday afternoon, and I spent that whole interim time wondering and worrying about who would be seeing me stripping down to my jockstrap.

The ironic thing was, I had been willing to streak through a field in my jockstrap in front of that whole group, including the nuns, just a few years earlier. But this was different. I wore a mask then, and believe I went undetected. But then again, maybe none of those people would be there at this private party.

Nonetheless, I made sure to wear a different jockstrap for the stripping. The outfit that had been requested was just a "business executive", a basic suit with a jacket and tie. I was relieved it wasn't anything too kinky. It was going to be embarrassing enough as it is.

Apparently not everyone who was attending was communicating with each other. When I got there, it seemed not everyone knew there would be a male stripper.

Especially the one who invited the Sr. Mary Francis and Sr. Johanna to attend.

I was shocked to see them, and the sentiment was likely likewise. I felt so embarrassed that they had now discovered what I was up to, and I wasn't sure how moral or immoral what I was doing was in their eyes. I had been on the fence about backing out of this gig since I knew I'd know at least someone there. And now I was wishing I had backed out after all, but it was too late.

It was very awkward. Some of the women seemed to be acting a little awkward too, whether they knew me, or just the nature of why I was there. Especially the ones who didn't know male entertainment had been booked.

And I felt REALLY awkward.

I couldn't wait to get out of there. Just a few years ago, I had gotten a rush by streaking within their potential view. But now this was different. I felt trapped. And what if they recognized my body from that stunt. And to top it all off, the nuns were there, which made it all the more embarrassing. Maybe I wouldn't have been so uptight if they hadn't been there.

But they WERE there.

After I had stripped down to my jockstrap and was dancing, they got the birthday celebrant up off the chair and kind of goaded her to dance with me. Then they started dancing as well. They seemed to be taking turns dancing in front of me. I was anticipating that at any moment, one was going to reach out and touch me. The thought made me nervous. My cock was definitely going to remain flaccid for this encounter. My state of mind would never let me derive arousal in this situation.

The nuns had passively stayed near the other end of the room, seemingly having no intention of participating. But they were encouraged to get up and dance with me by a few of the others. Sr. Mary Francis was smiling and giggling as she danced right in front of a jockstrapped me to the 80's disco music that was playing. She seemed into it, which struck me as rather odd. But oh man, the 30 minutes could not have ended soon enough, and it was feeling like the time had started to run over (and it did a little bit).

Just as I thought Sr. Mary Francis was having fun, enjoying herself and actually liking what was going on, she slapped the side of my strap framed ass, and yelled, "Shame on you!" It was a hard read, whether she was serious or kidding. Either way, I felt so embarrassed as she walked away from me. A few of the women seemed a little surprised she did that, as was I. I couldn't tell how serious / angry she was at me, if it was because she felt awkward, if she thought what I was doing was immoral, or what.. I just knew I was never more embarrassed, and more anxious to disappear from that scene.

But right after Sr. Mary Francis turned and walked away from me, Sr. Johanna was led to come up in front of me and dance with me briefly, before she retreated as well. She seemed a little bit embarrassed to be put in that position, but she did seem to be having a little fun, and didn't seem upset or anything. I still felt awkward and embarrassed, mere inches away from her in just a jockstrap.

After the song was over and we had been there what turned out to be a little over a half hour, I proclaimed that we had to get going, and I think I was dressed and out of there within like 3 to 5 minutes. The lady who hosted and booked the gig wanted to give me a tip, but I didn't want to take it. I think they all could tell I was extremely embarrassed, and just let me escape mercifully.

It seemed to ruin the thrill for me of doing strip-o-grams, and I quit doing them shortly thereafter. I had become busy with a real job and other things. I remembered that gig for a long while afterward, as if it caused a bit of trauma for me. I shied away from the nuns completely, and never went back to the church. Actually, I had stopped going to mass altogether. Especially with Ellen out of my life, there was no incentive for me to continue going any longer anyway.

What lingered on in my mind was that by doing that strip-o-gram, I had thought it had made Sr. Mary Francis upset with me. Yet it seemed like a quaint karma on some level, as in my mind, Sister had done something to Ellen which made her upset, which ultimately cost us our relationship. Or at least was a key contributing factor, as far as I was concerned.

Chapter 7

Some years down the road as I finally matured, I went on to become a photographer of mature women, starting as a hobby which evolved into a side job. Credit my influence to the unbelievable stories I felt blessed to overhear over those years that inspired me. My focus was on the beautification of mature women. I took a lot of care in getting the lighting just right for the skin tone, as my mental imagery that my mind would create of these women during their experiences set the bar for the quality I wanted to show.

My portfolio was eventually discovered by a group that was into promoting the beautification of mature women, and they helped me to get my photos published. I think the one photo I had done which could very well been the key, or "a" key, to my success was of an older lady with mostly gray wavy hair and hazel blue eyes, complemented by reddish framed glasses. The shot that I believe led to my acclaim was with her seated on a stool, where one foot was resting on the side cross bar of the stool. It caused her thigh to be horizontal, and she had her arm rested on it. She had a beige silky blouse lowered down to around her elbows, as she sit there posed in a nice white bra that had a subtle design on the cups, the upper half of which was semi-transparent. Her skin seemed just the right shade of light tan.

With some experimentation and experience over time, I had learned to get the lighting right to accentuate what I wanted to see, getting her skin tone just right against a slightly darker tan backdrop. I consider it a lucky accident, though I can't describe how I pulled it off, that the reflection off the glasses onto her eyes provided just the right glow. I couldn't have done a touch up that would have come out better. I think it was based on how this photo came out that this group saw how dedicated I was to beautifying these mature women, and was inspired to want to make me part of their team.

I wound up experiencing really good karma from the experiences. My work was bringing out feelings of sexiness in the ladies, and as I experienced with some of the widows and single women, some of them got caught up in the moment of feeling sexy, and once again, "right place, right time", as I found myself becoming a lucky recipient of their expressions of feeling like sexy beings.