Firsts Shorts 03: Cafe

All my adventures are from when I was 18 and over.

Once I started to get the urge to explore my exhibitionist side, I began experimenting with revealing situations. I soon discovered that letting a guy get a glimpse up my skirt or down my cleavage in a staged 'accident' was exciting. The look of surprise, double take, or just a disbelieving stare was enough to get me wet.

At first, I'd slyly undo buttons on my blouse, allowing it to gape, revealing the smooth curve of my breasts, nestled in a lacy bra or, when I became braver, a braless nipple slip. Next, I'd find a quiet spot in a café and sit with my legs slightly apart, showing a glimpse of my panties, shuffling in my seat so that my skirt would ride up over my thighs, showing a little more as I got their attention.

I'd sometimes fantasise about men catching me like that and watching me masturbate as they pleasured themselves, eventually taking things a step further when I became more confident by occasionally going out without any underwear at all so that some lucky strangers would get an unobstructed glimpse of my neatly trimmed pubic area.

One good thing about living in a college café culture is that there are plenty of opportunities for 'accidents.' At first, I walked around the park near my home, where I could bend over quite naturally to pick up a dropped bag or check a lace, letting my short skirt ride up over my cheeks, delighting at the feel of a breeze on my bare flesh, the look of passers-by who'd caught sight of me. But in the end, I found that exposing myself in quiet cafes or bars was the most exciting. It was also much safer for a new exhibitionist, just finding her confidence as it was a controlled environment with staff and other people around me, making it unlikely I'd get approached by some over-enthusiastic voyeur.

Deciding what to wear was also exciting and, at first, not as easy as it sounds. I wanted something sexy and flirty but not outright slutty or obviously scanty, where I could show a little at first, more if I felt like progressing my 'show' but doing it so everything would look accidental. In the end, I found my favourite clothes to tease in were a semi-sheer form-fitting blouse where I could undo as many or as few as I wanted, paired with a lacy half-cut bra, and either a discreetly short skirt, which sat mid-thigh, a wrap-round with a slit up the side or a short pleated skirt, each choice showing off my legs, right up to the top of my thighs if I sat just right. The pleated and wrap-around skirts' bonus was that they would flip up in a breeze, flashing my panties, cheeks, and sometimes more if I was without underwear.

Before I went out on my first adventures, I'd pluck up the courage by sitting in front of the mirror, crossing and uncrossing my legs to see what would show, practising sitting or bending, letting my skirt ride up my legs, and seeing how much would be seen when I opened them, discovering that even when I went without panties, I could expose as little or as much of my pussy as I desired. Even naked, standing or sitting, only a little of my pubes and slit would show with my thighs squeezed shut, knee turned in, keeping most of my sex private. Allowing a tiny glimpse as I turned a knee out, more as I parted my thighs, stepping a foot out if standing, bending or squatting to reveal every little detail as my lips parted.

The excitement on my first day of 'flashing' was edged with nerves as I showered and slipped on my blouse and skirt. For my first 'experiment,' I picked a usually quiet coffee shop. Still, I had forgotten that people would call in to buy a coffee to take to work. As I waited in the queue, I noticed a tall gentleman in the reflection of the display cabinet, standing close behind me, sneaking glances down my top. I had the top three buttons undone, and with his height advantage, I guessed he could see all the way down to where the lace barely covered my pale areolae and perky nipples. I caught his eye as I turned from the till after paying and knew by the look on his face that he got an eyeful. He watched me pick up my coffee and walk to a table, probably wishing my order had taken longer.

I could feel my nipples getting hard, wondering what the guy had been thinking about as he looked at my breasts, my heart thumping with excitement, as I'd found the experience as enjoyable as I'd hoped.

I chose a table facing away from the main area but towards a set of bench seats, where some professional-looking middle-aged guys were looking at their laptops. Allowing my skirt to ride up a little, I sat with my legs slightly parted and sipped my coffee while pretending to check my phone. One guy looked up, staring into space in a bored way, chin resting on steepled fingers. His elbows nearly slipped off the table as he caught sight of me, and at that moment, I crossed my legs, letting the skirt slide further up my bare thigh. I peeped over my phone to see him staring, clearly unable to drag his gaze away from my panties. I shifted and uncrossed my legs, letting my smooth bare thighs part, leaving me deliciously exposed. From experimenting in front of the mirror, I knew he could see right up my skirt, but the ultimate prize remained hidden...for the moment.

Nipping to the toilet, I removed my panties, ran a finger over my damp lips, and dried myself before venturing back out. I sat carelessly, my skirt riding up, and again the man's attention was on my legs. I spread them a little while hitching my skirt high, knowing the view would be of my bare pussy, and as his eyes went wide, I let one leg drift out, feeling my outer labia part a little.

I glanced at the guy sitting opposite, trying to look casual, but my heart was pounding. His eyes flicked to mine, then back to my open legs. A tiny bead of sweat was on his brow, and his tongue darted over his top lip. A little shudder ran through me. Seeing his reaction was so exciting. I felt sensual and naughty, and really damp.

He suddenly stood with his hand casually resting in front of his crotch, trying to hide a hard-on as he hurriedly asked the guy next to him to watch his things before darting to the toilet. As he passed, I smiled and could just see the bulge in his trousers past the jacket he was holding close to try and cover it.

My pussy felt so wet that I needed to touch it, and with my nerve ends tingling followed him, my mouth dry as I darted into the ladies, touching a finger to my clitoris, pressing a finger hard against my lips, rubbing my slit, already so turned on that I was almost at the point of no return as soon as I touched myself. I fantasised about what was going on in the gents, wondering if the guy had managed to pull his erection from his trousers before he came in them, a sudden wet stain spreading across his crotch, overexcited from the public show I had put on for him.

I could feel myself flushing and had to suppress a cry as orgasm thrilled through my body, wetting my thighs and fingers. I held a finger inside myself while rubbing my clit in small, quick circles, making a muscle jump in my thigh. Cleaning up after getting my breath back, I put my panties back on. I returned to my seat, noticing the guy was again sitting opposite, thinking he hadn't lasted as long as I had, guessing he'd masturbated to relieve himself as I had. He saw me staring and shifted in his seat, still looking a little red as I smiled, finished my coffee and stood to leave, wondering if I perhaps should have joined him in the gents so we could watch each other.

Perhaps next time.