tagExhibitionist & VoyeurEarth Day Mission Statement

Earth Day Mission Statement


My first entry into any competition. This one meanders a bit, but it was fun to chew out. Some of you will hate the ending. Apologies in advance.


I slid off Jeff's cock, feeling his hot semen rush down my inner thigh, as it became freed from our locked position. I had climaxed so hard on Jeff's thick shaft when he shot his load in me, that I'd fallen forward on top of him, nearly passing out. As I began to gather my bearings, and my clothes, I looked over to my best friend.

Jeff and I grew up together, literally. We weren't siblings, but he'd been unofficially adopted into the family when he was four. I was a year older and the only natural child of Belinda and Thomas Rogers. Jeff may as well have been their son. Jeff's biological father was absent since birth, and his mother was a truck driver who wanted little to do with him. My parents, by virtue of location, timing and goodwill, provided Jeff with a stable and loving home. It had been over 15 years since Jeff saw his real mother, and I knew that weighed heavily on him.

It was during our third year of college that Jeff and I began our physical relationship. We roomed together when we moved to the city to attend Southeastern Arizona. Rather than sharing dorms with strangers, we chose to live together while working and attending school.

I'd landed a job at a local restaurant and Jeff found work at a semi-professional theatre as a stagehand. His interest was performing arts and one day, he hoped to be on the stage, rather than working behind the scenes. I was aiming toward a degree in Economics, though my passion was in politics. I care deeply for our environment and the world we all share, and I had high hopes of one day being an elected official. Whether that was to be mayor, or maybe a congresswoman or senator, I didn't know, but I was insistent to leave the world a better place than I found it.

Jeff took excellent care of his body and he helped me get back in shape recently. After high school and several years of eating crap while prioritizing work and studies over health, I gained over 30 pounds. My big tits had only gotten bigger, but so had my ass, thighs and stomach. Once we started rooming together, I joined Jeff in his daily exercise routine and started eating a bit better. With Jeff's help, within four months I had dropped most of the weight. I was finally getting more confident with my body.

"You're looking great, Megan," said Jeff to me one night after a run. "Are the guys in your classes hitting on you yet?"

That had happened quite a bit frequently, but I had ignored it. Though I was feeling more confident, I wasn't quite there yet.

"Oh, you know," I said.

"I'll bet," laughed Jeff. "Maybe you ought to start wearing tighter-fitting clothing to get some attention. Strut it up, girl."

I practically stared Jeff down as he spoke. He knows I am not a flirt.

"Oh, come on. I'm just saying you should be dating, sis." Jeff always called me "sis," even though we weren't natural siblings, and I never called him my brother in any way. He continued, "We're only young once and you have a terrific figure. You should flaunt it. Get out there."

The truth was, although I was slimmer, I still wasn't very happy with my figure. My breasts were large, yet still held a healthy bounce and all, but they were more cone shaped than what would be considered conventionally attractive. Though my stomach was almost flat, my hips were a tad wide. Still, I thought my top-heavy proportions made me look awkward.

When Jeff and I worked out, I sometimes noticed him get uncomfortably large in the crotch region when helping me perform some exercises. In my mind, we were considered too close as family members to pursue a real relationship, but Jeff was turned on by me and I was flattered by it. In fact, it turned me on very much. One afternoon, after a grueling workout and a glass of wine, we caved to our physical needs.

Jeff was the only one I ever felt comfortable being naked around, which gets me to my next point. I am uncomfortable with my body, not just because it isn't shaped perfectly the way I'd like it to be, but also because I tend to get easily aroused when people look at me lustfully in any way. Even in minor ways.

I understand human behavior. Chemical and biological reactions are normal for people. This leads to flirtatious acts and more, but other people don't have the same challenge as me. Even the slightest gaze from a man at my tits or my ass (or hell, just my body as a whole) makes me tingle all over. If I see someone looking down my blouse, I get wet instantly. Exceptionally, sloppy wet. I get almost insatiably horny, and the harder I try not to think about it, or the more I try fighting it, the hornier I get.

This sounds stupid. Like something a few sessions of therapy could fix. Believe me, I have tried. If I go out on an actual date, of course I'll get eyed lustfully. I'll also be distracted all night, craving sex, wanting to be used in any way. This behavior could be catastrophic to a public servant, as I aspired to be. I had no intention of having any sexual quirks destroy my career like an Anthony Weiner type.

This problem of mine is one more reason why the arrangement I had with Jeff worked so well for me. I hoped it would last, even if it did need to stay secret. Also, as a result of this "condition," I dress very conservatively as a rule. The heavy sweater and slacks I was putting on now were proof of that.

"Jeff," I said. "Why don't you let me worry about finishing school and all these other projects I'm in? I don't want a relationship right now."

Jeff sighed, leaning up against the headpost. "Alright, sis. I just thought maybe you should start dating for real, rather than us continuing on like this."

"Jeff," I said. "I like this arrangement, but if you don't..."

"No, Megan, I'm fine with it. I just think sometimes you feel like the whole thing is a bit creepy or weird. Sometimes you're into it; sometimes I think you hesitate."

Maybe I did have some objections, but I'd never said anything out loud. "Look, I don't have time to go over this right now. I need to go clean up a bit and then head to a meeting tonight. We have a big event this weekend."

"Oh yeah, you and your hippies."

I scoffed and marched out the room. I was running late.

In my first year of college, I'd joined a non-profit group called Progressives for Humanity. It wasn't long before my dedication and enthusiasm raised me to the position of Treasurer for the group, and I intended to be its president one day, just one more step on my career path. The mission for Progressives for Humanity was to educate the public on our agendas in a more detailed way than the usual talking points. High on its list of priorities was climate change.

For a political class project, I had crafted a piece arguing that a progressive's idea of a perfect solution to climate change would also solve many issues that conservatives care deeply about. Part of that solution was to consider creating a national initiative, as bold as going to the moon, but one that would create four million non-government jobs. It would shift our energy needs to over 95% renewables within ten years, and it would literally pave a way to "starving the beast" in regards to funding terrorism. 9/11 was financed by Saudi oil money, after all. There is no better way to combat terrorism than to strangle its ability to function. The oil and coal companies could get on board with this initiative and invest more in renewables themselves, or they could watch other companies eat them alive all in the name of capitalism. Very much like the automobile did to the passenger train.

Progressives for Humanity took my work and made a visual guide of it. If one spent so much as ten seconds looking at it, they could get the gist of the message. Conservatives may not agree with our ideas, but we hoped to at least express them in a civil and polite way.

Earth Day was coming up in two days and the city was hosting a big event at Tall Tree Park. Our entire staff rented a tent space and we were going to be passing out these brochures to everyone willing to take them. We knew many of the people that we would be handing our material to would already agree with its message, but we knew they could use it to take back to their families and places of work to share with others.

Tonight's meeting was out of the ordinary as it was simply meant to prepare for the upcoming event, rather than covering other agenda items. We were to ensure we had all the right supplies, with tents and tables, printed materials, bottled water and anything else that was on the list.

When I arrived, there appeared to be a meeting going on. Sheila King had a dozen or more people around her, getting all riled up over something. Sheila was the interim president of the group. The previous one had to retire recently due to health issues. Sheila was good hearted, but came off a bit radical at times. As I approached, she began waving at me to come forward.

"Megan, I am so glad you're here!" said Sheila. "Have you heard?"

"Heard what?" I asked.

"It's going to be over 120 degrees on Saturday."

We had been having record highs for some time, as usual these past years. It should come as no surprise to be hot, but 120 plus was exceptional. "I knew it would be hot, but not one of those days," I moaned.

"These high temperatures are directly related to climate change. I think we should do something radical to get our message out, and the temperature provides a bridge to allow us to do that!"

"What are you getting at?" I asked.

"Sheila thinks we should all go naked on Saturday. She thinks more people will visit our tent, and maybe we'll even get media coverage." It was Michelle Abrams speaking, obviously annoyed by the idea of the whole thing. Michelle was perhaps the most beautiful woman in our group, with long legs and jet black hair. She was a staunch feminist, though, and abhored men sexualizing her in any way. While I tended to get easily aroused if someone looked me up and down, Michelle's reaction was to get angry. Very angry.

The thought of my banana tits being on full display for the world to see, while knowing the risks I would take being so aroused with so many eyes on me, made dissenting from the idea an easy answer for me.

I began to respond, "You think we should all go naked? I don't know if..."

"Why not?" butted in Sheila. "I figured you of all people would get it. We should piggyback on the weather conditions by stating that we are all at risk of much more than just going naked on a hot summer day. Think of the press this will get. Oh, and don't worry, we'll bring plenty of sunblock."

"I think it's a great idea," said Adam Mitchells, the tall and lanky one of the bunch. "I'll bet we can convince many attendees to go naked, too, considering hot it is going to be. Hey, perhaps we should bring extra sunblock to sell, helps raise funds. Between all of us, and dozens of festival goers, the cops won't begin to make a fuss by arresting anyone. Even if they did, that would only draw more attention to our group and its message. Win, win!"

"I never imagined being naked in public before," said one young college girl in the group. "What if my dad finds out?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," shouted Sheila. "Nudity is not sex. We're not having orgies on the lawn. All body shapes, sizes and colors are welcomed. The more variety, the better. The point is to send the message home that it's literally too hot to be outside comfortable in clothes, and yet some people still don't believe in climate change."

As I said, I thought Sheila could be a bit of a fanatic at times. She looked at me. "Come on, Megan. The votes are 7 to 7 right now, you're the breaking vote. What's it going to be?"

I tried to find a compromise. "Why not have those who choose to come naked, do that, and others wear what they want?"

Adam interjected. "All or nothing, I say. It's a strong message when one can say an organization got everyone to back its message and its mission, even if it had to be so radical to be heard."

Apparently Adam was like Sheila, I thought, but he might have a point. However, the thought still terrified me, and I intended to vote no, when suddenly Lisa Owens interrupted. Lisa was short and pudgy, but otherwise quite attractive. She was immensely shy, though, willing to help with our causes, but always quietly, in the background.

"I'd like to change my vote. Adam's right. It would be good for us. I'll do it, I'm in. I'm scared, but I'll still do it."

That was more words I heard from Lisa than the three years I'd known her. I also now realized the votes were 8 to 6 in favor. My vote was meaningless at this point. My heart hit the floor. How was I going to do this?

Lisa Owens walked over to me. "I figured you would vote yes anyway, since you're hot and all, but I decided to just do the right thing. Thank you for letting me change my vote."

I wasn't sure how Lisa thought I "let" her change her vote, but I smiled and nodded. "It's okay, Lisa. I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to vote. You solved that dilemma for me."

Lisa blushed and walked on. I wanted to go home and cry, and later that night, I spilled my fears to Jeff.

"I can't do it, Jeff. No way am I comfortable being naked in front of people."

"But why? You're gorgeous. You always were. What's the big deal? Sounds like fun."

If I hadn't trusted Jeff so much, I wouldn't have explained in such detail, but I unloaded everything. "Remember that first night we were together? You had been getting horny watching me work out that day."

"I remember," he said.

"Well, trust me, I was much hornier than you. All I could think about was having your cock. Hell, I would have taken ANY cock. I can't explain this very well, Jeff, because I don't understand WHY it happens, but when guys lust after me, I get so incredibly horny. I have no self control. I could hate the man, but if he's looking at my tits, I'm gonna get stupidly aroused."

"Wait. What? Are you serious? You have to be exaggerating."

"I wish I were. I'm not kidding, Jeff. I get... honestly, I get wet. Very wet."

"If that's the case, you would have been getting 'wet' lots of times around me, even before we started things. I was always eyeing you up and down. Can't help it... but you didn't have that reaction back then."

"I did, Jeff, I did. I just didn't tell you."

"Oh, man. Really?"

I rolled my eyes. He was supposed to be supporting me, not questioning me.

"What about now?" asked Jeff. "You're telling me if you're naked, and I am... what? Perving on you? That you'll get horny? Even if you weren't in the mood?"

I crossed my arms. "I don't know. I haven't ever actually been naked in front of anyone other than you, and that always leads to sex if that happens. I just know I always get horny when anyone tries looking at me sexually in any way. Once, I wore this low cut blouse in class. One Janet gave me for my brithday. I swear I soaked the floor, with all the guys walking by my desk taking peeks at my cleavage. I can't even imagine what will happen if I'm stark naked."

"Hey, calm down," said Jeff. "I think you're over-thinking it. I'll bet it won't be an issue at all. I actually went to a nude beach a couple times. You don't even notice after awhile. It becomes as normal as wearing clothes."

"I wish I could believe that," I said.

"I have an idea. It's simple."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Take a folding chair and a dark towel. The moment you begin to get too excited, just sit down on the towel. People will think nothing of the towel being in your chair, and it will disguise any embarrasing incidents."

"Gross," I said.

"You got a better idea? Hey, I wonder if you're a closet exhibitionist or something? That has to explain your condition. But anyway..."

"I may have a problem, but no, I do NOT want to be a sex object. I am not an exhibitionist!"

"Why are you getting so defensive? And why are you associating going naked with being a sex object?"

"I don't know," I said. "I just do. I just know people will look at me that way. It makes me uncomfortable... and it gets me wet! It isn't appropriate."

"You're acting like it shouldn't ever get you wet."

"Not like this!" I exclaimed.

"Well, look, unless you have a better idea, you better warm up to it."


I pulled the folding chair out of the trunk and grabbed the large, black beach towel I purchased on the drive to the park. I was wearing a long, summer robe and holding a handbag that held sunlotion and a few other necessities. I didn't know whether to arrive naked, or get naked once I was there, so I chose the latter.

It took me about five minutes of walking to make it to the tent. There, I found Adam and Sheila were the only ones naked, the rest of the group still dressed. Six more hadn't even shown up yet, including Michelle. I wouldn't be surprised if she bailed on this.

Adam looked at the group crowding under the tent and called everyone to attention. "Be sure to apply plenty of sunlotion every three hours. We have water available all day. We'd like folks to alternate working the booth and walking the grounds handing out our material and signing them up for our newsletter."

As Adam spoke, Lisa Owens began undressing, out of a t-shirt and shorts. She wasn't very fit, with a bit more body fat than what she probably wanted, but she still had a cute, youthful figure, with pert breasts.

"Uh, when do we all have to get naked?" asked Bob Pelts, the only other man in the group besides Adam. "I am kinda dreading this."

I looked over at him. "You and me both, man," I whispered. Dear god, I was getting wet just thinking about how this very man was going to see me naked, in the very near future. How was I going to possibly keep from embarrassing myself, if I was already turned on so much simply by the idea of it?

"Well, snap snap, people!" Sheila shouted. "The event starts in ten minutes and we're going from start to finish. It's not over until it's dark. There's two carboard boxes behind the booth to leave your belongings for the day. It will always be in sight of those working the booth."

As Sheila spoke, others around me began disrobing, including Bob. I quickly understood why he was reluctant to do this. His cock must have ten inches limp. For being such a short man, it was a shocking contrast and only made his package appear larger than it was. I was confident Bob's unique featutres would garner him a hell of a lot more ogles and ahs than anything I would get.

'Well, if he can do it, so can I,' I thought to myself, as I slowly unfastened my robe. Underneath were shorts and a tee, though no underwear. I quietly began folding my robe when I felt a poke behind me.

"Can you believe this fucking shit?"

It was Michelle's raspy voice, and sure enough, when I turned to her, I saw the look on her face matched the tone of her voice. She was stark naked, and utterly stunning. 5'10 with long legs and firm breasts. There wasn't any body fat to be found on her, other those perfectly perky lumps on her chest. Her ass was smooth and round. Even her feet had a curvature that exhuded sexuality.

"Yeah, that, exactly. Ever since I got out of my car."

"What?" I jumped. "I'm sorry. I was..."

"Checking me out, I know. I can put up with it from you, Megan. It's these assholes..." She pointed to Bob, and a male stranger walking past the booth.

"What'd I do?" asked Bob, catching the implication.

"You know what you did," said Michelle. "Once was enough. If I catch you looking at me or Megan again like that, I'm going to read you the riot act."

Bob shook his head incredulously. Perhaps Michelle was a bit too quick to accuse others of misbehavior, I thought, but I kept it to myself. Finally, I closed my eyes, took a breath in and peeled off my shirt. My cone-shaped breasts were breathing open air for the first time in years. I was afraid to open my eyes to see if anyone was watching, but I did and Michelle was looking right at them.

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