tagExhibitionist & VoyeurCoerced Exhibitionist - Laura

Coerced Exhibitionist - Laura


©2015, 2016, 2017 Literocat


This is a story of introductions, obsessions, clarifications and a course altering week that served as a delta for the four main characters. I knew their attitudes and actions changed soon after they met, but I didn't know this was that story. Did their personalities truly change or did they just recognize and accept the unacceptable? You decide.

Steve and Sue will tell you their sordid tale in a parallel story and time line.

And so it began

A few years ago, in a Networking class, I met at least three memorable people. Steve, who has remained a friend thru the years and thousands of miles of separation; Jen, a pretty and petite woman with a warm and attractive personality, and figure. A deep sadness traveled with her, yet she kept a happy pretense alive. She was still shocked by the surprise end of her marriage and I tried to be a friend she could lean on, despite my attraction to her and my lustful intentions. We eventually dated briefly.

It didn't go very far since she was still grieving and my girl and I were in a not so brief 'timeout'. After four months of separation and angry avoidance, when Sue heard about Jen, she melted her polar, frigid position just enough to casually wave hello in passing. She also stuck her head in the classroom, supposedly to answer notes I sent her, but in reality to observe Jen and me. I refused to get my hopes up that we were getting back together. She might have been jealous or just checking to see if I'd really moved on. I knew how stubborn she could be and how much she hated being predictable. Fortunately, she didn't see how attracted to the third memorable person I was.

That third person is the subject of this tale. Laura {spirit-of-halloween, spirit-of-halloween-nightmare, halloween-surprises, empress-new-underclothes} was the most stunningly gorgeous woman I'd ever seen - in real life, porn or celebrity — stunning! A compact and petite ninety-nine pounds, ten of those were in her D-cups; her tiny 5'1" frame was otherwise perfectly proportioned. Her small, sexy waist swelled nicely across her perfectly curvaceous hips and a high, firm, well-rounded butt. Though she usually wore slacks since it was winter, when she wore a skirt, her sexy, toned, but not muscular, flawless gams locked all eyes on her petite thighs.

Ultimately, the 'reasons' her stunning facial features were such a paragon of beauty was an inexplicable enigma that I had to try to decode. One day I'll try matching her stunning face to the golden triangle metric of universal beauty. Until then, I try to catch my breath and breathe. At first, I tried to stare subtly. It wasn't easy and may not even be possible, especially when you are besotted with the subject. She had to know I was staring stupidly since she must have left a long trail of mesmerized men behind.

Even her clavicle was perfectly shaped in twin, soft and sensuous curves; her chin was at once bold and feminine, her lustrous smile and sexy, curved, wicked lips were deadly; her tongue teased and remained untasted, to my chagrin; her breath was flowerily sweet; her cutely shapely nose contributed to her ingenue airs; bright and deep blue eyes captivated, hypnotized and subtly broadcast the profound intelligence behind them; thick eyebrows should have been a detraction, yet on her, they were sexy and shapely; her tall, flat, forehead helped shape her flawless face which had NO bad side and her dark brown, scapula length, nearly straight hair managed to wisp around her jaw and perfectly frame her fair face. Absolutely stunning! All that without makeup!

When she walked into a room, I couldn't help but sigh. She was so guileless and down-to-earth that her spirit glowed with her ingenue and relaxed innocence. I never heard her curse or be obscene, yet the naughty twinkle in her eye said she wasn't perfectly innocent or virginal. She was always elegant, refined, modest, friendly and approachable, never one to tilt her nose up with the 'I'm a goddess and too good for any of you' attitude that she well deserved. Her relaxed smile, positive attitude and general kindness, despite my awe and deserved sense of unworthiness, emboldened me to approach her. First with false need for help with class problems which she easily saw thru. Yet, she was open to me and presented her own class needs to me. Real, or not? I didn't care. There was no way she could be attracted to lil-ol-me, was there? Breathless at the prospect, I couldn't dare entertain the idea. Is there any way this paragon of perfection could stay in my life a while? Maybe forever? Yet, we advanced to hanging out and casual lunch dates, usually with Steve.

Several weeks later, on one of these trio lunches, at a glassed in patio of a Mexican place, I confessed my veneration. By then it was obvious that she knew that Steve and I were dazzled by her persona, physical and spiritual, though we never mentioned it. She'd chosen to wear a moderately short skirt despite the frigid and snowy weather. It was impossible to hide my gaga stares at her sexy legs thru the glass table. Casual chat lead to innocent teasing and taunts and exploring just how innocent she was. Her skirt rested far up her thighs and she delighted in teasing me with casual knee splaying followed by my soft moans. I bravely leapt thru the now open door before Steve did. My heart raced and pounded so loudly I was sure she could hear it. "Listen, bella, I'm going to say some things, truths, that umm, (gulp) may change things for us, but I have to relieve this huge pressure in my chest . . . "

"Well, Honest ABE, I didn't know we had a thing going on," she teased and smirked beautifully. One knee only turned toward me and flashed most of her perfect inner thighs at me. I watched her lips move and imagined my lips on hers, my tongue in her perfect, hot mouth; my heart raced faster. When she leaned to put her treasured hand on mine, I quickly pulled away and avoided contact. Her smile fell and she looked confused and maybe a bit hurt. I felt pained by the pain I saw in her. "Why did you do that? I was only teasing you about your name, Al."

"Yes, I know and that's not it. You know what 'bella' means and it was nothing but a simple compliment. I moved away because I thought your hand was going to 'burn' me. You know, or at least know that I believe, that you are extremely hot. I feel your natural radiance warming me and felt that if you touched me, I'd bubble away, my wax wings would melt and I'd burn and crash. How's that for mixed metaphors? You befuddle my mind. What thing am I risking? I feel I'm risking your friendship, your daily dose of pure, beautiful energy that enlivens me. I look forward to that dose of grace, and hate the thought of risking it. Here goes . . ."

I took a deep, nervous breath and decided to expose myself though Steve was still present. "I have no expectations of you. I look at your stunningly beautiful face and look hard for the least flaw. You're an easy 10, so I switch to a scale of 100 just so I can find the tiniest bit of imperfection. I can't find anything that mars your skin or facial beauty. I hate to say anyone is a 100, so I dig deep. For some, your thick eyebrows or the slightest bags under eyes should knock you down several points. In you, I see them and they don't diminish you in the least. One day you will sprout crows feet, and I'm sure they will blend perfectly just for you. I won't comment on your obvious features below your collar, well, except for one word - WOW!" I glanced blatantly at her tempting thighs again.

"I can say all this since I know I don't have a chance with you since you are so far out of my range. I feel your powerful spirituality and love your intelligence. You are a paragon of perfection and a solid 100 all around. If I thought I had a chance with you, I would seriously hit on you and try to convince you that I would love you for all my life. But I don't stand a chance against perfection since I'm far from perfect and just average overall. Leaping for you would leave me a thousand miles short of the humble pedestal you live on. Those are the extremely important things I'm risking." I sighed deeply and realized I blew even the slightest chance with her with my humiliating blabber.

Steve, being a good guy, excused himself and left us to talk. "Oh, Al. I'm not perfect either. My face is a gift I had nothing to do with. You say I'm pretty, but you should see my sister. SHE is the pretty one. I've always been in her shadow. I have, I never told anyone this, a mole on each foot and a little extra body hair in the wrong places. No, I'm not perfect." She squeezed my wrist. I felt my skin sizzle and loved it. "You are not a thousand miles away. You are not 'just average,' at least the parts I can see." Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she glanced thru the table at my lap. My eyes and my dick surged in synch! "I see a lot in you that I like, or I wouldn't be here. At the right time, we might both leap and easily cover the meter, at worst, between us. There is no pedestal."

My heart raced out of control, my breath scarce. Was she just being characteristically humble and more loveable, or was she telling me she had secrets and was interested? I tenderly covered her hand that covered mine. "Well, I'll have to see those moles and your hairy bits to possibly lower my opinion. Maybe one day? I look forward to seeing my first beautiful, perfect mole." It was difficult to refrain from saying that I'd love to lick those feet, suck her sexy toes and kiss those moles. I had no hope of ever seeing her naked or getting into her sexy pants. Did I?

Steve returned, after obviously eavesdropping, "Count me in! I want to see all your hairy bits too." I grimaced; she laughed, slapped his arm and giggled at his innuendo then called him a very naughty boy. That's when I knew I was in trouble. She didn't believe she was worthy of a pedestal and anyone who thought so was a shallow, unworthy fan boy that she couldn't take seriously. Steve just showed her that funny arrogance that diffuses the annoying admiration that a goddess like Laura was tired of deflecting.

We returned to class for the last session before Xmas break and decided to hang out after class in the same room since we knew it wasn't booked. Being all out nerds, and grabbing any excuse to hang out longer, after we quickly finished our holiday homework, we explored advanced programming topics and tricks. Brainy and beautiful Laura was unbeatable. She kept rocking her knees apart and pointing her gaping thighs at just me. Was she teasing and flirting with me? Were her bare thighs an actual invitation? Steve took the hint and packed up after an hour, saying he had someplace to be. I easily convinced lovely Laura to stay and challenged her to a knowledge game. Assuming a more distant, funny and slightly insulting demeanor instead of the wimpy acolyte, I proposed we alternate tough questions. My mind went into devious mode to plan how I might coerce or challenge my goddess to strip for me or at least show me her 'flaws.'

Naughty Laura's eyes perked up in a devious way. She proposed, "Fail to answer correctly and you have to agree to a slightly indecent dare." As I hoped, she was intrigued and over confident even as she negotiated the rules of our impromptu game. In fact, since she had the brainy high ground, she thought she'd take advantage and try to embarrass me. "Hmm, any dare has to be restricted to this room, so no streaking the halls or other classes."

Streaking?! Is that where this was going? Who is coercing whom? Though it was well past class hours and nearing 18:00, some evening classes would be starting soon. Maybe even in this room? Until her comments and glances at my groin, I had not dared to hope for a chance to get her to strip. I wonder what she is really trying to prove. Either she was trying to 'normalize' her image, or she had a genuine interest in me. She couldn't be a 'mean girl' just pranking me. Could she?

Grinning widely, she continued, "Let's simply agree that for every question you fail to answer correctly, you have to strip off something, shoes, socks, belts and jewelry don't count. Then you have to climb onto the desk and dance for me for two minutes. Make it a sexy bump and grind. I'm going to enjoy this game!"

"Oh, so you really are a naughty [goddess] girl! Well, that helps — you just dropped all the way down to [100] 88! This sounds like you've played a lot of strip poker/trivia! You, umm, want to play this now? 'Streaking?' Give me a break or I don't stand a chance against you, smarty pants. We have to include trivia and you have the same penalties. Let's 'simply' agree that we have to start our answer within thirty seconds and when you are naked, you have show me your hairy problems, and moles and do an embarrassing dare!"

"Agreed. That's Ms Smarty Panties to you! Ladies first. Prove that half of twelve is seven. Your thirty seconds start NOW! Tick tock." Did she just agree to possibly get naked for me? WOW! Wait, that was too easy!

"Pretty slick, not! I'd use either REXX to manipulate a simple array or, for better optics, Visual Basic to show the formula ' ½ of XII =' Then split XII horizontally and remove its lower half so the result is 'VII'. BAM! You didn't expect me to write the actual program in thirty seconds, did you? Up on the desk you [gorgeous goddess] silly girl. Lose the boots and your choice of blouse or skirt."

"Oh fuck! I mean 'Damn'! Sorry." She kicked off her boots and I gathered them for further use. "Go close and lock the door," she demanded as she climbed shamelessly onto the desk and exposed her blue mini bikini panties. My heart skipped.

"For shame! You dropped an unnecessary F-bomb. That drops you another eight points to [100] 80. You're on a slippery slope and sliding down to super model range. The door stays open! We agreed to no streaking in the halls, but never said we had to close the door. In fact, I'm opening the blinds too so we can see the snow and anyone who comes to shovel it. Think how much more thrilling it will be if, when, Steve comes back, or the janitor, another teacher, an evening student or other stranger peeks in and sees you showing some more cellulite. Isn't that why you suggested this stripping game, for the high risk of getting caught? I didn't realize you were an exhibitionist!" Exposed before exposing, she blushed.

"Hey! I don't have ANY cellulite! How do you know me so well already? I never told anyone that I umm, sometimes like to flash - not even my sisters. Please, PLEASE close the door?"

"Sorry, babe. I knew the open door would get your heart racing nearly as fast as mine does just [dreaming of your perfect pulchritude] thinking about your ugly moles. Toss me your blouse as you dance for me."

"What happened to my timid fan boy? I thought you liked me?" She pouted perfectly and slowly, nervously unbuttoned her blouse as she checked the door and gyrated. I sat on a chair behind the desk and looked up at her. "Are you looking up my skirt?"

"Of course I am. I haven't seen you in a swim suit, yet, so I have no doubt you've been hiding two [extremely delightful, perfect legs] thunder thighs. You poor thing." Now we see how she swings. I never suspected her naughty, seamy side. Was all this a hidden facet I exposed or was this a special treat just for me?

"Screw you and the thunder thighs I don't have!" I wish, I told myself. Hips gyrating slowly, constantly, she swept teasingly over her overstuffed baby blue bra then removed and tossed her translucent white blouse at me. I grabbed my chest and grinned a fake attack. She bent her knees and twerked her shapely ass briskly. Happily, that also shook her prominent, tempting tits. Her panties flashed each time her skirt bounced as she breathily looked over her shoulder at me, her pawn. An hillock of smooth, perfect ass cheek teased me until her generous gelatinous breasts aimed their thick nipples thru her sturdy bra. She watched me watching her; watched my dick tent my slacks and flashed me a beguiling smile. "Down boy, two minutes are up. Your turn."

"You sorceress! I nearly forgot. OK, try this one. A man named Tom walks into a restaurant for lunch. He asks the waitress if she is good at solving puzzles. She replies she is. So Tom says, 'I'll have sausage and noodles drenched with ice cream, hashed. And if you bring me what I really want I'll leave you a $100 tip, if not I get to suckle your bare tits right here in this booth.' A few minutes later she brought him exactly what he wanted, and, disappointed, he left her the large tip. What did Tom really eat for lunch? You don't have to write a program, just deduce the answer. Tick-tock!"

After a long pause, I called TIME. "Hey! There's no program to write to solve that and not enough info to begin."

A big, smug smile took over my face. "Since we allowed trivia, 3-D questions are in too. This is actually simple. Take the first letter of each word in his order and you get . . . S-A-N-D-W-I-C-H. Strip, bella." Someone was at the outside window, cupping his eyes against the glass for a better view. My pounding heart and bishop overrode and blanked my brain. I didn't tell my stunning exhibitionist for fear she'd stop her performance. I needed to know how far she was willing to go.

Her beautiful eyes bulged, her sultry mouth dropped and she squeaked "Son of a bee . . . OK, you got me." She started swishing her hips and tits again for me for a full minute, her eyes locked on mine or my groin, then she finally teased her zipper down and let her skirt fall. She kicked it to me and giggled when she saw me lick my lips. My goddess was stripping for me and her panties were wet! I moaned lightly as my dick surged. "Did I do that?" she asked as she pointed to my obvious swelling. She slowed her swishing and hip thrusts and I locked onto the thick hump of her mons, the puffy, twisty nest of dark hair trying to rip thru her translucent panties and the thick, swelling, wet, camel toe that forced another moan from me. When she slowly pulled her tiny panties up, tighter against her perfect, shapely ass and against her wet slit, I saw a tiny dome outlined at the top of her slit. I gasped. "You silly boy. Haven't you ever seen a near naked woman before?"

I gasped again "y-y-yes, of course, but . . . well, your thighs aren't too bad after all [they were perfection of course]. Is-is it my t-t-turn?" She hopped off the desk, pressed her glorious tits against me and gently kissed my cheek before warming my ear. "Oh GOD! You are going to make me soil my slacks," I whispered.

"Ohh, no. We can't have that. Focus on the puzzle; it's a tough one. You have two identical eggs. Standing in front of a 100-floor building, you wonder what is the maximum number of floors from which the egg can be dropped without breaking it. What is the minimum number of tries needed to find out the solution?"

"Bella, that's TWO questions, so do you expect a penalty for each failure and two penalties for you if I get them both? Crossing my fingers, since that would get you COMPLETELY naked for me. Are you ready for that?"

"Are you?" She grinned at my discomfort. "Tick tock!" Was I? Though I'd often challenged myself, I was never an obvious exhibitionist; in fact I was persistently shy about exposing my gents.

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