My name is Jennifer and I write erotic stories as a past time. I write these stories from my experiences over the years. I was a wild-child artist I suppose, and fell in love with exhibitionism and sex and sometimes both at the same time. I don't why, I wasn't brought up badly or abused or even poor and down on my luck. I just like the feel of a man's eyes on me, it makes me feel sexy. I suspect a lot of women like that too or they wouldn't dress as they do. I just take it a bit further than most and that sometimes results in an adventure. My first experiences started when I was 15; I won't go into that here, but suffice to say it was interesting. I love men, I just can't quite figure them out, but I sure like trying.
So to how I look, I'm a small girl, I guess petite is the most accurate description. I'm just 5' tall and weigh around 85 pounds. I'm thin with a toned body. I swim at least a couple of miles every day (around 75 laps). I have reddish/brown hair with light green eyes. My measurements are 32B-22-33. I'm 28 years old now and a professional freelance portrait artist.
This story goes all the way back to when I first went to art school. I met and consequently started dating this guy who was a couple years older than me. At first, Donald struck me as being sophisticated and worldly. He had a great sense of humor and was really smart. He was a pretty good artist, much better than I was at that point.
After a while though, I began to realize that Donald just thought I was a kind of dumb, naïve piece of ass. I hated how he would treat me in front of people when he was drinking. I suppose it was my own fault too; I knew what he wanted and I played to it. I wanted to be the good girlfriend.
When we were alone, he could be really nice, but he also had a temper on him ... really bad. And he was jealous ... oh my god, he was insane.
I don't really know why I didn't just break up with him as soon as he started getting abusive. I guess I somehow believed that it was always my fault that he lost his temper - typical young girl bullshit.
Anyway, one Friday night he was drinking and got livid because even with a padded bra, my nipples were showing through on a blouse I was wearing. It wasn't something I could help, but he called me all manner of foul names and threatened to become physical.
His roommate Philly tried to calm him down, but Donald seemed to just get even more fired up. That was it - I told him he was an asshole and I never wanted to see him again. I stormed out of his apartment determined that it was over. In a way, it was a relief, but I also felt really down. I had liked hanging out with the older crowd at the school. The following week, he sent flowers by my apartment and kept trying to call me. I wouldn't talk to him. After a couple of weeks, he got the message and stopped calling. I'd see him in school, but we weren't in the same classes so it wasn't much of an issue. The next time I saw him must've been a couple of months later. I was a party and he showed up.
When I saw him, I figured it was time for me to move on, but he caught my arm as I was heading out the door and asked if he could talk to me for a couple of minutes. He wasn't drinking or anything, so I just nodded and we moved off to a quiet place and he really apologized. I was amazed. He told me he had been thinking about his behavior and how he treated me and realized that he been a real ass and most of his friends thought so too. I agreed that he had acted like an ass and treated me poorly and told him so in a quiet voice. I had time to think about a lot of the things and realized that I had allowed this to happen as well. By the end of the talk, we agreed to be friends but not see each other exclusively like we had ... and I found myself in bed with him that night.
So we evolved into something else. I saw other people as he did, but sometimes we would hook up and it was usually pretty good, no pressure. I guess we became fuck buddies and it worked for us.
The one good part of that relationship strangely enough was Donald's roommate Phil. I had gained a lot of respect for him when he had tried to protect me a few months earlier. He was a pretty cool guy, really smart and really shy. He went to another school, so he really didn't get all caught up in the school politics. When I first met him, he had been dating this kind of heavyset girl who dumped him just after I started dating Donald. She told him that the reason she was breaking it off was that "he was too friggin boring," as she so eloquently put it.
I had met her a few times and thought she was a real bitch. She had this kind of attitude that a guy would be really lucky to hook up with her. I didn't see it. I've met a number of big girls like that - piss poor attitudes and the opinion that guys are just assholes to be used and manipulated. Later and privately, I thought that Donald should've hooked up with her; they were made for each other.
I liked Phil though; I thought he was funny. He had lived on a farm growing up and so knew how to fix almost anything it seemed. I was driving this Jeep at the time and it broke down one time at Donald's house. Donald had no idea what it was and couldn't be bothered to check. Phil came out, opened the hood, took one look, found the problem and fixed it. It turned out that the battery posts were all corroded. I didn't know, and neither did Donald, but Philly ... he knew what the problem was right away and knew how to fix it. I know that's a bad example for any of you who work on cars, but if it'd been more complicated, he would've figured it out. He said he just looked for simple things first and then went from there. Most often, it turns out to something simple like corroded cables. I'm certain you've all met the type, my dad was like that. He called it McGyvering after that old show on TV.
While Donald and I weren't really dating, we had kind of evolved into getting together on the weekends more often than not. I would spend a Friday or Saturday at their place. In the morning, Donald liked to sleep in; he was a late morning sleeper. I couldn't do that. I'm an early riser and still am. So I'd get up, make some coffee and read the paper or a book or something. It turned out that Philly was an early bird too and so we would have breakfast and talk. That's how we became such good friends I think.
I had been conscious of Philly kind of checking me out a little bit in the past, but pretty much ignored it. I wasn't wearing anything provocative, especially in the early days of dating Donald when he had no problem being an ass with me.
The first time that I noticed Philly really trying to see something was when we would be having breakfast after I started to sort of see Donald again. It was early spring. I was probably all of 19 years old at the time and I had a pretty good figure - svelte is how I thought of myself. I remember early spring because I was sitting at breakfast wearing a robe and it was a bright, sunny day. It was still cold out but with the smell of spring in the air. You just knew it was going to be nice soon.
I didn't say or do anything or even let on that I caught him checking me out, but when he went back into the kitchen, I saw that my robe had opened up a little bit offering a peek inside. I was wearing a t-shirt underneath so no issues, but it got my mind working a little bit.
You see, I had been so careful about what I wore and how revealing anything was due to Donald's jealousy. Donald used to just go crazy if he caught some guy checking me out and then blame me for wearing an outfit that drew the attention. Philly had never really seen me so casually dressed before. But now with the altered state of my relationship with Donald and my comfort with Phil, I didn't concern myself so much with what I was wearing. It felt good to have another man checking me out.
I thought Philly trying to peak down my robe was pretty exciting. It lit that familiar spark in me that had been beaten down for a long while. Even though we weren't dating, I was still conservative in my attire when around Donald.
Well, over the next month my renewed friendship with Philly grew deeper and I began to trust him more and more. Donald never got up before 11 a.m. and so we had 4 or 5 hours together at least once a week, sometimes more. We talked about all kinds of things and I shared things with him that I would never have told Donald. The thing was that Donald never seemed concerned about Philly. I didn't try to hide that we were friends, but I didn't rub it in his face either. Usually just a little before 11, I'd go get into the shower and Donald would hear the water running and sometimes come join me.
Well, as the weather warmed, it was uncomfortable to be wearing the robe. Philly often came out of his room only wearing a pair of shorts and no shirt. So one morning I decided to just wear the tee shirt. If Donald had known, he probably would've gotten upset, but I was trying to break free of that restrictive attitude and figured we weren't dating really. Besides, he was sleeping and would never know. I have to admit, that I was kind of curious how Philly would respond. It was a thrill for me to even consider and more of a rush to do.
I went out into the kitchen said good morning to Philly and poured myself a cup of coffee. He was just starting breakfast, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw him do a double-take before getting back to what he was doing. Philly seemed to be having a hard time focusing on what he was making for breakfast. I was secretly pleased to see that.
.... There is more of this story ...