tagExhibitionist & VoyeurIt Started When I was Eighteen

It Started When I was Eighteen


In the summer of 1983, my Dad drove me two days by car to western Massachusetts so I could interview for admission to College. As a Missouri girl who believed the northeast to be our modern Mecca of enlightenment, I was surprised by the lackluster hotels and restaurants we encountered there. The prophetic dullness of New England was nothing like the sizzling energy of St. Louis with its clean inns and varied cuisine. Massachusetts was like a Hitchcock movie and the recommended motel like it might have once been owned by Norman Bates.

Tired from the long drive, Dad went to bed early. I lay awake in the bed next to his, nervous about the interview to be sure, but also restless with thoughts of summer nights back home with my friends. At age eighteen, I was just discovering my sexuality. My experiences were limited to back seat make-out sessions with boys. Cute boys. I dated several rather than "go steady." Dating meant all kinds of fun; movies, pizza parlors, cigarettes, loud music, and of course, making out.

I loved the intrigue conspiring with a boyfriend to invent a cover story and locate a venue for a sexy rendezvous. I loved "frenching" and unsnapping and unzipping and exploring with my hands the sweet responses that lay just beneath the denim folds.

There in my hotel bed, I was quietly miserable. I could not risk masturbating with my light-sleeping father in the same room. My hormones raged and one particular night of petting replayed in my mind, a "double date" ostensibly for my friend Cindy and I to meet Tony and Dave at the late movie. The actual scheme involved a frolic to the local golf course to spread blankets on a green and enjoy less fettered access to one another than what was possible in the confines of a car.

So on a warm June night under a cloudy sky, we made our way past chain link barriers to the 14th hole of the Glen Echo Golf Course. We set up our blankets on opposite sides of the green, far enough apart for privacy in the dark, close enough for some "safety in numbers" during the risky trespass.

In those salad days, multiple suitors rang my parent's phone, but Dave was my favorite. Sweet to the taste, cocky and cunning, Dave had dirty blond hair and a perennially mischievous smile. He always showed me a good time. As I lay on the blanket kissing him and anticipating the entry of his hand under the waistband of my bell bottoms, my practical side took control. I thought, "Why make this so hard? Why risk the painful pinch of Dave's hand trying to slip into the tight confines of these hip hugger Levis?"

So, with heart pounding, I sat up in the dark, slipped off my sandals, shirt and pants, and crawled back into Dave's arms. He took my act as an invitation. It was. With a bit of fumbling inexperience, Dave successfully removed my bra and panties. For the first time I was completely naked, outside with a boy.

I loved it! My nude body pressed against him, the air on my bare skin, his hands roaming freely and gently over my breasts, all the way up and down my sensitive back. Dave easily accessed the burning flesh between my legs. Growing shorter of breath, I unzipped him and relished the springing erection in his tight white jockies, feeling his masculine member hot, smooth and straining at my touch.

We thusly "made out" under the gently flapping flag of the 14th green, Dave clothed, me naked, writhing in each others arms, burying our tongues in each others mouths. It was so much easier to position my burning femininity on the sweet bulge in Dave's jeans. He was now my willing captive. I felt his hard cock pressing against me, his hips rhythmic and urgent. His arms encircled me tightly and I moved my ear close to his mouth to hear his breath when he came. Naked and exposed in his embrace, I felt the delightful pumping pressed against my hard clit and it sent me over the edge. I joined him in a deep, satisfying orgasm. My satisfaction in the moment included the approving wet spot forming in the blue fabric over his throbbing cock.

Dave's arms relaxed and released me and we languished in the warm summer air. Until then, I had not noticed the cloud cover had broken. A bright moon now illuminated the darkness that had shrouded my naked body. Upon seeing that I was now plainly in view of Dave, as well as Cindy and Tony, my instant impulse was to grab my clothes and dress.

But I did not. I lay still beside Dave. My heart pounded. The sweetest feeling of warmth and desire filled my insides as I discovered and accepted a new facet of my sexuality. I enjoyed being naked. I wanted Dave to see me naked. I wanted all three companions to see.

I sprawled on my back on the blanked my hardnipples protruding unencumbered into the warm night air. Dave sat up beside me and began to glide his hand gently over the contours of my shape. Looking past him I could easily make out Tony's face, his head turned fully in my direction. I studied his features and noted his interested expression. I judged that if I could see him so clearly, then he could easily see me. Cindy was busily buttoning up her clothes. My garments lay in an undisturbed pile on the cropped bentgrass green.

Eventually our be-at-home-by-deadline grew close. We had to leave. Rather than remaining reclined and modestly pulling my things back on, I rose and stretched and turned this way and that before reaching down for my clothing. I dressed slowly. Dave sat enraptured by my willingness to pose in the nude. I quietly burned.

Once dressed, time growing ever shorter, we fled through the trees and back over the Glen Eagles chain link fence. Dave cranked his souped-up '67 Mustang. We flew back to where I parked. I gave Dave a long kiss goodnight and knowing smile before jumping behind the wheel of my orange VW bug and taking off for home.

As soon as the tight VW doors closed, Cindy launched into me. She chided me mercilessly. "Tony could see EVERYTHING! He kept looking at you!"

"It was dark!" I lied. "You mean you guys could see me??"

"You knew exactly what you were doing!" she accused. And she was right. Not only did I know it, but I masturbated at the fresh memory of it when I got home that night and for several days afterwards.

Now, cooped in this hotel room with my Dad, the memory of being naked in front of my three friends smoldered in my imagination. I ached for release. I quietly slipped out of bed, dressed, grabbed a room key and opened the door. My Dad woke up and asked where I was going. "Just out for a walk around the hotel, Dad" I told him. "I am having trouble falling asleep." My sweet father told me not to be nervous about the interview. "I won't Dad" I said, and went out the door.

I walked down to the lobby and desperately considered what to do. I couldn't get into Dad's car. I hadn't thought to pick up the keys on the way out of the room. I scanned the horizon. There was a considerable patch of woods right next to the hotel, dark enough to provide me needed moments of privacy.

I checked to make sure no one was watching and darted into the trees. In a few minutes I found a sufficiently secluded clearing. I unfastened my pants, slid my hand inside, and began the circular rubbing that would bring me sweet relief.

The burning memory of lying naked next to Dave filled my mind and drove me to my next idea. How nice it would be to be naked, to feel the cool night air swirling around my body! I removed my hand from my damp panties and turned a full circle to make sure I was completely out of sight. I listened carefully for any noise that might indicate someone was near. Then I unbuttoned my blouse and took it off, folding it neatly on the ground. I glanced around before removing my bra. Then I slipped off my sandals, removed my pants and panties in one smooth motion, then stepped back into the shoes.

I thrilled at the feeling of being naked in the cool night air. I smelled the moist New Englad woods and listened to the breeze. Leaves crackled under my feet as I took several bold steps away from my clothes. My hands roamed freely over my nude body, caressing my nipples, now hard and erect. I used my left hand to alternately pinch and rub them while my dominate right hand formed sweet circles on my throbbing clit. The memory of being naked in front of others, the feeling of being naked in that moment, it only took a minute before I writhed and came, my body jerking in time to the waves of pleasure flowing through me. I could not help but fill the silent forest with my long soft cry of Oooooooo.

The urgency quelled. The sweet relief. I remained naked a few more minutes, catching my breath in the night air. Then I slipped my clothes back on, returned to the room and slept well.

The next morning I picked the twigs and leaves out of my clothes while Dad showered. I stashed my stained panties in the bottom of my suitcase. I walked with my Dad down to the motel check-out, and eyed the clerk to see if my secret was out. His face showed no sign he knew of the deed.

Dad bought me breakfast at a restaurant on the way to the interview. I sipped orange juice and felt both relieved and worried. Cindy's berating still echoed in my ears. Did my new found desire make me weird? I knew Dave didn't mind! I wondered if this was how strippers got their start. I promised myself in vain that I would never again do anything so "perverted."

On the way to the college I pushed the guilt and worry from my mind and enjoyed the stress relief my brief adventure produced. The interview went well. My interviewer said he liked my "energy." New Englanders so seldom see sexual satisfaction, I suppose they admire it more than most. Anyway, I got accepted. I weathered two nightmare years in fair New England before wisely transferring to warmer climes. Many times I found my way into a deep Vermont wood, disrobed, wandered, masturbated... I wrote Dave every week I was there. We are friends to this day.

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