Tutoring An Exhibitionist - Pt. 01

She was curious about the massage table, so I told her that, just this previous summer, I had cultivated a small clientele of women who came here on an irregular basis for massage. I hadn't been sure how they were going to react to being in a fishbowl, but most were OK with it and several "loved" the idea of being spied on while getting a massage.

They too found my gallery enticing and as the "naked" masseur, I made no secret of our mutual display for my neighbors. No doubt, my cut-rate fees and an excellent massage kept them coming back for more. Momentarily silent, taking this all in, I guided her out of the room and back to the kitchen.

I asked Janet how she would feel about being exposed in the studio like that, either giving or receiving a massage for all to see. She was currently training as a massage therapist so she had the comfort of knowing what she was doing. Would she be willing to be on display while doing so? Not just willing, but eager? Of combining her love of being watched with her profession? While getting a massage from me?

I reminded her that my neighbors had only seen me giving a massage and never the reverse. Watching her give me a massage would be a real treat or, at the very least, a change of pace. Because we were behind closed doors here, we were safe and able to stretch our limits. Was she willing? I knew that she could expose herself here, could she take it a step further?

She told me that she could, that she would be willing to go the extra mile. I took her hand at this and led her back to the studio where we were expose for all to see. I took her over to the window to put her on display to anyone watching. She was, of course, "naked" to anyone who was watching because her bodystocking was all but invisible in the sunlight. As I stood behind her, I slipped off my robe and stood there naked, waiting for her to notice.

When she turned around to face me, her back to the window now, she directed me to the table, unable to restrain herself anymore. She pushed my shoulders down on to the table so that I was on my back, my glans waving at the ceiling. My penis was pulsing with renewed vigor and Janet was not going to let my erection go to waste.

Janet swung one leg up and over my hips, straddling my pelvis. As she lowered herself onto my flaming hard-on, it aligned itself perfectly with the opening and slid into her pussy in one fell swoop. She was riding me cowgirl and the pleasure arising from the sensation of her rocking was overwhelming, sweeping over me like a wave.

As she was riding me for all that she was worth, I reminded her that she likely had an audience and that this was a new experience for them. I encouraged her to clasp her fingers behind her head and arch her back, allowing anyone watching to see her magnificent breasts in all their glory.

As she followed my suggestion and was thus thrusting her breasts forward, I could tell that I wouldn't last much longer. I reached up and tweaked her nipples, resulting in waves of contractions radiating down through her pelvis. It proved too much for the both of us. The slight shift in the angle of our penetration brought us both to a shattering orgasm almost simultaneously. As the contractions of her pussy milked me dry, I was overcome with a feeling of affection and gratitude and I pulled her down to me, chest to chest. As we both recovered our breath, she gave me a long, drawn out kiss.

We must have remained like that for a few minutes, still joined together as I dosed off. Her squirming soon brought me back to reality. My penis was still firmly implanted inside her vagina, just now beginning to flag. We were spent and it was time to get on with our day. I needed a shower - perhaps we both did.

As we untangled ourselves and dismounted from the table, I asked her how she was feeling. I told her I needed to crash for a short nap and asked her to join me. We both padded down the hall to the bedroom and she asked me for a hand getting out of her outfit. I did so eagerly but it was like peeling off a second skin, the spandex sticking to her from the fluids we both contributed. I assumed it would have to be hand washed. a

I then detoured to the shower stall and grabbed a quick one while she slipped in under the covers, curling on her side. I finished up, toweled off and slid in behind her, spooning with her, my top arm resting on her hip.

We were both dosing in moments.

To be cont'd...