Read ‘Part 1’ HERE.
After leaving school, I admit I became a little more ‘conservative.’ Well, after university anyway! Marriage was the dampener. But the true self cannot always be denied…my return to form came in Brighton one night in (what turned out to be) the last months of my marriage.
Balcony. Did I ever think that I’d do this for real? Actually, go through with it? Surely not me?
Not shy (I now laugh at the thought), married, (temporarily) conservative, (fleetingly) respectable me? Me?…Exposing my bare breasts to casual strangers? Putting myself in a situation where just anybody could have a good look. Surely not?
And tonight is the night. The first of many I hoped. What would my husband think? My parents….my neighbours? Did I care anymore? Not really.
Thoughts of them had held me back for too long. Far too long. Now it’s time to be me, the real me again. The me that lurks beneath the life I live, the me that has always wanted to climb out of her coffin and live again.
Well, I have plucked-up courage finally. I glance at my watch. It is 10.09pm, the darkness of the evening is settling in. Lights are coming on and I can see people through the windows opposite. People who are going about their everyday lives, people who are mostly oblivious of being observed in those tiny squares of distant light, people who soon will be able to observe me…
I stand still hidden in the darkness of my room before the open windows leading out to the balcony, and I am breathing very heavily. Gulping for air. I am almost passing out from excitement; from fear. I am afraid of my needs. They scare me. I scare me. I have a ‘more or less’ settled life at home. A decent life, a staid husband, two high-achieving kids, sort-of financially okay. So why am I doing this? Am I mad?
I can feel the chilling night breeze passing over my body. Apart from my watch, I am wearing panties and shoes only. My nipples are already hard, and I wonder if I can do it. I wonder if I can make repressed me really do it. Really.
But I know that I will, I feel that I must. If not now, then never. Opportunities like this are rare for me, to be away from home, alone in a hotel for the night. I have wanted this moment for so long, fantasised about it; pined for it. I know if I wimp out now I won’t be able to live with myself. I must. It is the point of no return.
I don’t want to be Mrs Repressed forever. There must be more to life.
And of course, there is.
As intimidated as I am, I move forward. Gingerly I step, one foot in front of the other until I am at the very front of the balcony. My hands grip onto the front bar. I want to stay out there no matter what happens until I count to a hundred.
My body feels alive, touched by the night. Like being caressed by a ghost. My nipples are tingling, and my breasts beginning to throb, I count…
One…two…three……too fast, too fast, you’re wimping out… slow down. One-elephants-two-elephants-three-elephants-four-elephants…
My mouth is dry, and excitement makes it hard – well impossible – to swallow. I look at the windows opposite me. I can’t see anyone looking. That’s the point though, I never expected to. But at the same time, anyone could be looking, sets of hidden furtive eyes seeing me topless. Anyone. Anonymous. Strangers.
I try and swallow but can’t. Fifty-elephants-in-a-tub…fifty-one-elephants-in-a-tub…
I look down to the street four floors below. Will anyone look up? Do I want them to? Really want them to? Yes, I do. Yes, I fucking do. I want to be seen. Just like I want someone in the dark squares opposite to be looking right now, perhaps they are even hard for me, maybe even wanking off while they look.
Have a good look I think, embracing the moment. I take a deep breath, I thrust my chest out. Have a fucking good look I am thinking. Anybody at all.
My elephants pass a hundred and still I stand there. I am more relaxed now. Comfortable. Still excited but not caring who sees, the more the merrier really. I light a cigarette and I stand there smoking, hoping the smoke might draw extra eyes. (I planned it that way. I haven’t smoked for ten years and have not since that night.)
I am aware that I have crossed a threshold tonight; the line between fantasy and reality. I know it is just the start. I can feel that this will be a long journey for me. I can feel it will become my life; or at least a life.
I stop counting at six hundred elephants. I am comfortable in the night. In truth, I am not sure how long I am out there. I know at least three cigarettes. My only regret when I come in is that I left my panties on and didn’t wear my sluttiest heels.
Next time, and yes, I know now there will be more times.
Please do read (If you haven’t already) Part 1 of ‘My Exhibitionism’ HERE. My first baby steps when I was 16. Enjoy!
Another schoolgirl experience of mine was masturbation – and how it revealed my essential ME to me!!
I’m just a woman with an exceptionally ‘grimy’ mind, who loves turning my Immoral thoughts, lewd fantasies and deeply-felt desires into words and stories. Life is just too short to keep them all to myself.
Born and live in Oxford. Divorced. Hobby…..exercising my luring imagination! 🙂