Butterfly Book 2: Sherry and Crissy
Chapter 1: Letters from Crissy

Caution: This True Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, ft/ft, Consensual, Coercion, Lesbian, BiSexual, True Story, Cheating, Sister, FemaleDom, Light Bond, Humiliation, Group Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Sex Toys, Squirting, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Public Sex,

Desc: True Sex Story: Chapter 1: Letters from Crissy - The continuing story of a young woman finding out who she really is and what she really wants. A darker sequel to Butterfly Book I.

Sherry always thought of herself as an efficient worker, someone who was able to focus on the task at hand and get it done before allowing herself to goof off and relax. But back at work on the Monday following her tryst with Crissy, she couldn't stop herself from repeatedly checking her personal email, hoping each time to see a message from her new "friend."

As the morning dragged on, though, she began to feel used and a little pissed off wondering why Crissy hasn't emailed yet. Hadn't it been Crissy who had asked for a phone number? Had she been insulted that Sherry preferred to give her an email instead? Sherry had a growing suspicion that she'd been the recipient of a lesbian "wham bam, thank you ma'am" and felt increasingly cheap and foolish as she tried to concentrate on her work.

It was around 11:30 when an email arrived from "cluv69". The message was short and to the point: "hey cuntlicker" was all it said. Sherry's face blushed bright red, and she quickly deleted the email even though her office door was closed and she knew for a fact that her company didn't (yet) monitor internet traffic.

Another short and smutty message arrived in the afternoon. Sherry worked up the nerve to reply but didn't think she was very good at dirty talk. ("I wish I could have eaten your pussy for lunch" was as risqué as she could muster.)

Right before leaving the office, Sherry called Kyle to ask what he wanted to do for dinner. But for the first time in months, he begged off, saying he'd agreed to meet a new fitness client that evening at the gym and wouldn't be home until late. The strain between them was obvious and she didn't know what to do about it.

On Tuesday, Sherry started to check her email first thing, but Crissy's first message didn't arrive until almost noon. Crissy typed that she had brought a camera to class that morning, and that she'd "taken a few interesting shots." Attached was a picture of Crissy sitting demurely at a desk in a dingy university classroom. She sent a similar picture a few minutes later, and another in about half an hour, and so on.

The series showed Crissy in various places around the college campus wearing low-cut but relatively modest jeans and a black t-shirt and carrying a backpack. They were all innocently boring.

By mid-afternoon, Sherry was no longer so anxious to keep up with Crissy's monotonous on-campus photologue. At one point, three new photos piled up in her inbox before she bothered to open them.

"Great, she's walking down a sidewalk," Sherry mumbled to herself, commenting on the first picture before deleting it. "Now she's going into the library. How studious. Now she's ... woah."

The third picture showed Crissy from a few steps behind and below in an enclosed stairwell. Her back was to the camera and her jeans were pulled down to mid-thigh, her creamy-white bare ass doing a great impression of a full & bony moon.

Sherry was much quicker to open the next email. The attached photo was another rear view of Crissy, this time opening a heavy fire door leading from the stairwell to what looked like a lobby with her jeans now pulled all the way down to her knees. Her bare crotch would have been visible to the blurry figures walking in the lobby, but it was impossible to tell if anybody was looking in the right direction. Sherry tried to get back to writing her sales proposal, but her concentration was suddenly way off.

The next picture arrived minutes later and showed Crissy removing her jeans while sitting on the dingy carpet between huge stacks of books, no panties in sight and a devilish look in her eye. At this point, Sherry gave up on getting any work done and began to compulsively hit the "check for mail" button every few seconds. She didn't have to wait long.

There were two attachments with the next email. In the first, Crissy had her back to the camera while standing at the rear of a wide study area wearing only her t-shirt, the very bottom of her ass peeping out. About a dozen students sat studying at tables littered with notebooks and books, too engrossed in their work to notice Crissy behind them.

The second showed her still bottomless in the same study area, but this time she was closer and walking towards the camera right between all the mostly-occupied tables. Even more outrageously, Crissy had subtlety lifted her t-shirt just high enough that the fluorescent lights lit up the very bottom of her exposed slit.

All the students in the room again seemed oblivious except for one: an Asian girl behind Crissy who stared wide-eyed at the almost-bare ass strolling boldly by. The look of shock on the girl's dainty features was the hottest thing Sherry had seen all day. It wouldn't hold that record for long.

The next pic showed Crissy standing beside an open office door holding her t-shirt up to her neck, exposing everything. The cute college-aged tie-wearing guy inside the little office typed away at his computer, unaware that Crissy was flashing her entire skinny self right around the corner. The sight of that figure reminded Sherry how much fun Crissy's boyish body could be.

Crissy was just a creamy blur in the next image as she audaciously ran naked across a wide hallway between rows of bookshelves, her t-shirt held above her head like a black battle flag. A couple of blurry students were visible in the background but seemed to have their backs turned.

Next came a few silly shots featuring Crissy frolicking among dingy rows of tall bookshelves wearing only her backpack and a smile. She mimicked classical poses with an oversized picture book about ancient Greek sculpture. She covered her crotch with a book about cats. She posed in profile with some sort of geology book, holding a full-page cross-section of a cone-shaped volcano sideways behind her chest so that her itty bitty titties were dwarfed in comparison, her impish face comically glum.

Sherry marveled that Crissy had apparently wandered all over the library buck naked. She figured that she may have slipped back into her clothes between shots, but with Crissy, she knew that anything was possible. Sherry also wondered who had taken the photos. She wished she'd been there to snap them herself.

It was late in the "work" day when Sherry finally finished her proposal. As she ruefully admitted to herself as she fetched it from the printer, it would have been completed hours earlier if not for Crissy's distractions. After taking to her boss for his signature, however, she let herself get distracted again, returning to her office to click the "check mail" button one more time.

She did have mail, and a lot of it, because it downloaded reaaaaally slowly through her office's cheap network connection. Her fingers impatiently drummed on the desk until the message finally arrived. Then it was obvious why it'd taken so long to come through – five photos were attached. And then another multi-image email followed. And another. Sherry's pulse raced in anticipation as the "percent complete" bar moved along at a glacial pace, but she made herself wait to open anything until all the photos had all finished downloading so that she could better savor whatever delicious naughtiness Crissy had cooked up.

This series featured Crissy (still totally nude, of course) sitting on a comfy plush chair near a bright window, her pale skin tinted golden in the late morning light. It didn't seem like a very private corner of the library, but the shots closely framed her slender body so it was impossible to tell for sure.

In the first pic, Crissy faked coy modesty, artfully covering her flat chest with her arm and her crotch with her other hand, thighs together and pointed slightly to the side.

In the second, her thighs relaxed a little so that Sherry could see the middle finger of the hand over her mons bent inward. Her other arm dropped so that one nipple peeked out.

In the third pic, Crissy uncovered her breasts and opened her legs a little more, revealing that her fingertip had slipped just inside her obviously aroused lower lips.

From the fourth photo on, Crissy's left knee was hooked over the arm of the chair, bathing her hairless cunny in direct sunlight as she boldly and nakedly masturbated in a college library.

Sherry's lusty urges had built up all afternoon and she desperately needed relief. She quietly locked her office door, turned off the overhead light, pulled her slacks and panties down to her knees, and rolled her chair tight under the desk. As she eagerly scrolled through the pictures of her pornographic penpal jamming two and then three fingers into her swollen pussy, Sherry feverishly copied, getting her own juices flowing freely.

Her favorite was a close-up that filled Sherry's entire screen with the image of Crissy's fingers and labia and inner thighs glistening wet in the golden sun. Sherry knew for sure that Crissy hadn't just frozen in different obscene poses because her hand was a blur rubbing vigorously between her thighs. The shameless little slut had actually frigged herself in public.

Just when Sherry thought she couldn't get any hotter, the last two images proved her wrong. In the second-to-last, the photographer stepped back to take a much wider view. Crissy was still spread legged and masturbating, and now Sherry could see that the chair where Crissy was stationed was at the end of a row of books, shielded from the narrow aisles on either side by a massive bookshelf.

But she had been spotted. A couple of cute co-eds had apparently come around the corner of the aisle to discover little naked Crissy gleefully playing with herself. The photo caught them both in mid-recoil, leaning back, faces almost comical with shock, both staring at Crissy, whose knees were hooked up over the arms of the chair and whose upper body was a flush shade of pink as she neared orgasm, seemingly unaware of her watchers.

The co-ed's further reaction remained a mystery as the last picture returned to a close up view. Crissy still had both knees hooked on the chair's arms, and the camera zoomed in even closer than before on her glistening and obviously spent pussy, fingers out of the way. Every wet crevice was clearly visible in the bright light, including the little bud of Crissy's engorged clit. And in red lipstick across her silky-smooth mons, she (or her anonymous accomplice) had scrawled "EAT ME, CUNTLICKER!"

Sherry obediently lapped her tongue towards the monitor until her rising climax made her involuntarily squeeze her eyes shut. It took enormous self-control not to scream aloud when she came, but Sherry bit her lip and squeezed her thighs around her hand and managed to hold back all but a happy whimper.

The sound of a ringing phone somewhere in the office broke the spell. Sherry opened her eyes and saw her boss strolling by through the narrow window beside her office door, making her very anxious about the fact that her fingers were still lodged deeply in her pussy. She closed her email program, pulled up her slacks, and looked around for something to dry her hands with. "Now I know how a teenage boy feels," she muttered wryly to herself, ineffectively wiping her fingers with a tissue and finally getting the jokes.

When her boss left the area, Sherry tried to make herself look presentable and headed to the restroom to properly clean up, praying she wouldn't pass anyone along the way. Her prayers were answered, as she made it to the ladies' room unnoticed.

Sherry also had to pee, and became alarmed when she noticed the aroma of her sex wafting through the air in the stall as soon as she lowered her slacks. Her worries increased when the bathroom door creaked open and someone else came in. She heard another stall close and lock, so she rushed to wash her hands and leave before the other woman came out.

But before she even got to the sink, the bathroom door opened again. In walked Trish, the receptionist she had dreamt about months before, carrying a half-empty pot of coffee. To Sherry's surprise, it was Trish whose face looked guilty.

"Don't tell Mr. Bradley," she whispered conspiratorially as she poured the coffee into the next sink. "He thinks coffee that eats the pipes and won't let me pour it down the kitchen drain, so I sneak in here."

Thinking Sherry's poker face wanted more explanation, she continued. "He wants me to save the old coffee in jugs and use it to water the office plants. He's a nice old guy, but he's a little loony." She punctuated her diagnosis by spinning her finger around her temple in the universal sign for insanity.

Sherry smiled weakly, trying to get out of there. "Yeah, I know what you mean," she replied, turning to leave.

"Hey, Sherry; you've got something on your hand. What is that; kleenex? Do you have a cold or something?"

The color drained from Sherry's face when she saw a small piece of tissue sticking in a damp spot between her index and middle fingers. "Yeah, I think I've had a fever all day," she replied, quickly re-rinsing and hurrying off. It was only after she'd returned to her office that she realized the double-entendre she'd unintentionally delivered.

Kyle got a pleasant surprise when he arrived home later that afternoon. Sherry had gone over to his apartment and lain naked on his bed, slowly working herself up to a plateau of repeated gentle orgasms using the same bottle of tanning oil Crissy had used at the beach house. When she heard him opening the door, she quickly tossed the bottle aside to avoid unpleasant reminders and waited, eyes closed and thighs open.

Kyle didn't say a word when he came in and saw her position, just laid his own clothes aside and hopped aboard. The tension they'd felt over whipped them into a sexual frenzy, and they humped with wild abandon, both climaxing in only a few minutes.

They cuddled together lovingly in the afterglow, face to face. But Sherry still felt a slight edge, a slight distance still between them even as their skin pressed together. Since one session of lovemaking had helped to bridge the gap, Sherry figured that another would help even more.

Uncharacteristically, she restarted the action, nibbling on Kyle's ear. She wanted to do more to help them forget about the craziness of Saturday with Crissy, so she decided to rekindle a little craziness of their own by leading a role play. But instead of bringing back the Jump Rope Girl for another round, Sherry made things much more personal; she fantasized out loud that it was her best friend Jennifer who'd arrived unexpectedly.

"What would you do if Jennie walked into the room right now and caught us like this?" she whispered into his ear.

"I'd say 'Hi, Jen, what's up?'," he whispered in reply. She knew his cheekiness was a good sign.

"What about if she walked in and sat at the computer chair right there, and she said that she was disappointed that she'd come in too late to see us doing it?"

"I'd say that I was disappointed, too."

" ... And what asked us to do it again so she could watch?"

"Well, maybe something could be arranged..." Kyle's rod had re-stiffened considerably in a very short amount of time. They were still entangled, lying on their sides, and she felt it poking her upper thigh. With a nimble adjustment, she had the tip lodged between her pussy lips.

"What if she asked if you were still inside me? What if she asked to see? Would you show her?" Kyle grunted in approval and obliged the request, hooking an arm under Sherry's knee and pulling her legs apart to allow a clear view of his rod embedded in her crotch in the direction of their imaginary audience.

"Jennie says that she can't keep from touching herself. Is that ok with you?"

"If she has to, she has to," replied Kyle breathily.

"Jennie's wearing a long skirt and a button-down blouse. Well, she was; she's unbuttoning it now..."

Sherry continued to dictate her fantasy, describing her friend slowly stripping and masturbating. Then she had Jen leave the chair and crawl across the rug.

"She's right by the bed, and she's staring at you going in and out, in and out..." Kyle pulled out a little further each time before slamming back in, letting their imaginary spectator get a good look as his entire shaft and balls as he pounded it into his girlfriend. Sherry looked down between her breasts, enjoying the view immensely herself. In fact, the sight had her so excited that she impulsively decided to turn up the fantasy another notch.

"It's Jen's turn now!" she declared, momentarily confusing Kyle into almost stopping. She took the opportunity to untangle their limbs and get on all fours on the bed, her ass angled upward invitingly.

"Yes, take me, Kyle!" she cooed in a slightly different voice, pretending that she was Jen. He finally understood her new role and entered her from behind with a low groan.

He knew that Sherry was really worked up when she started talking really dirty. "Oh fuck me, Kyle!" she cried, "I want you so bad!" Then she added, "I'll lick Sherry's pussy while you fuck me!" Kyle seemed to really enjoy the idea and banged Jen/Sherry's ass more violently.

Sherry wiped her wet from around his pounding shaft and made a little slit with her moistened fingers, turning her head so that Kyle could see her tongue at work licking a simulated cunny, cooing "Oh, watch me lick Sherry's pussy, Kyle, don't you love to watch?..." as her tongue lapped up a second helping of her own girl juice.

Kyle didn't last much longer after that. A minute later, he clutched her hips and grunted "Oh god, Jennie, I'm gonna cum, here you go!..." and she felt his seed spurt deep inside. She wasn't quite done, so when he exhaustedly pulled out and rolled beside her on the bed, her hand worked furiously between her thighs and became slippery with their combined fluids as she made herself come, hard.

"Let's not tell Jen about that, ok?" she requested with a wry grin as they lay side by side a few minutes later, catching their breath. The wild sex seemed to break the ice. Though things were not quite back to normal, at least they were talking and even joking a little.

But when Kyle left to get a take-out dinner, Sherry used his computer to type a quick email to Crissy. She thanked Crissy for the pictures, but asked her not to send any more since she couldn't spend every day at work looking at homemade porn and masturbating. She briefly described the role-playing fun she'd just had with Kyle and had just hit the "send mail" button when he returned bearing little Chinese food boxes. After filling up on some curry chicken, Sherry let Kyle fill her up with something else one more time.

Sherry was delighted to see that Crissy had already written back by the time she arrived back to her own apartment. Crissy thought the fact that Sherry had masturbated at work was "hot as shit" and asked Sherry to tell her more about Jen and the JRG.

Sherry started to write a short answer and just couldn't stop. For hours, her sexual experiences and dreams poured out through the keyboard.

She started big, admitting her sexual uncertainty to Crissy, how she'd always been attracted to girls but how her mother had tried to squash every sexual thought throughout her early life. She told of her unrequited lust for Jen, including her so-far unsuccessful seduction attempts. She explained all about the JRG and her related role-plays with Kyle. She described everything that had happened on the night she'd first seen Crissy at Wendy's; the lap dances at Beach Bunnies, the flashing at the drive-thru window, and her thoughts when Crissy popped her leering face into Kyle's car window. And she told Crissy about going back to kiss that girl on Vecino Beach (though she omitted any mention of the boys that she'd almost fucked and sucked).

When Sherry finally clicked the "send" button at 2AM, she felt like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She also felt horny and fingered herself while scrolling through Crissy's sexy library pictures one more time before finally going to bed.

The alarm clock buzzed all too soon the next morning. While showering (and cursing the soap for not filling her with bubbly energy like it did for those people in the commercials), Sherry recalled the email she'd written in the wee hours and had sudden misgivings.

She hardly knew Crissy at all, yet she had shared secrets that she'd never told anyone before, ever. It sure seemed like a very foolish thing to do in the light of day. Thankfully, Sherry reflected, Crissy still didn't know all that much about her, either — only a first name and a free email address. That was comforting, but not very, and Sherry wondered why someone who was practically a stranger had affected her so.

At the office, Sherry refrained from checking her email. It wasn't too hard since she was so busy after having wasted the previous afternoon. A staff meeting ate up her morning, customer visits ate up her afternoon, and the workday was over before she knew it. But as soon as she got home that evening, she plopped in front of her computer and looked for Crissy's response.

It was there, but it wasn't at all what she'd expected. Instead of more pictures or a short note, Crissy had replied to Sherry's long confessional biography with one of her own:

To: Sherry@xxxxx.com
From: Crissy@xxxxx.com

_Your message was really hot. I didn't realize you were such a perv. I dunno; maybe we'd be more alike if I grew up in a family like yours.

I didn't have much of a family. My parents divorced when I was real little and my mother is a waitress and usually worked 2 jobs. My brother is almost 10 years older than me and a sloppy drunk and we're not close at all. Mom finally kicked him out after she found a crack pipe or some shit like that in his room. I was home alone a lot after that and had plenty of time to get into all kinds of trouble.

Since I was a latch-key kid, my place was where the other neighbor girls hung out after school. I was the bad influence, introducing everybody to music and movies and vodka and other stuff that their parents didn't want them to know about.

I've always had a thing for girls, too. When I was 13, I started an ongoing game of "doctor" as an excuse to get them undressed. Yeah, we were too old for that shit, but it was dirty enough to be fun, and the vodka helped get everybody loose. It was real exciting for me, the first real chance I had to see and touch other girls. I learned a lot about female bodies while getting them hot and bothered, tho they'd never admit it afterwards because they thought it would mean that they're lesbians. Stupid bitches.

Our playtime got so famous that some older chicks started showing up. Carly was the big sister of one of my classmates, a HS senior and hot as fuck with a pretty face and a great body. She came over a couple times but just sat back and watched without playing along. I took that as a challenge.

One day, I got Carly to drink enough "purple punch" that she finally joined in. I complimented her looks and convinced her to strip for us so that I could "teach" the other girls about the "developed female body", like I was a fucking biology professor. She was shy at first and took off her clothes in the bathroom, but then she came out naked and laid on the living room coffee table in front of the 10 or so girls who'd shown up that day. She laid on her back, too, so we could see everything right away; that bitch was proud to show off her curves, I guess because she was way more "developed" than anyone else. That, and the vodka.

It seemed like the younger girls were kinda intimidated by her big titties and carefully trimmed bush, so to get everybody comfortable, I started talking in a silly professor voice and told them to feel free to examine "our model". They giggled and started poking around here and there on her bare bod. There were a couple of other high school girls there and they joined in, too. Even Carly's little sister prodded around a little.

They were too unfocused and cautious, tho, so I described how nipples get pointy and sensitive when you play with them and invited everybody to take turns messing around with our volunteer's nice set of tits. The girls pinched and pulled and rolled Carly's nips between their fingers until they got plenty stiff and sensitive, all right; those damn things were hard as pebbles, and they stuck out a good half an inch. Everybody was giggling constantly, including Carly, but she kept her arms down on the table, playing along even though I could tell that she was getting very turned on. Besides those fantastic stiffies, her chest and face were pink.

Then I moved on to her most interesting part – her cunt. (Though I called it her "vagina" since I was being professional-like.) Carly didn't flinch when I patted her bush and asked her to let us see; she silently followed directions, opening her thighs a little. The room got real quiet then, but I kept playing the professor, encouraging everyone to move down by Carly's feet, which I pushed off the sides of the table to spread her legs even wider. While all the girls obediently crowded around me, I held her pussy lips open to expose her clit and explained that a girl's clit gets hard like a boy's cock when she gets excited. And fuck it all, as we all watched, Carly's nub swelled up right before our eyes, before I even touched it.

Man, there was so much tension in the room when I told my "class" that rubbing on clits and pussies feels real good and invited everyone to try it out on Carly's bits. That bitch liked the idea; she even spread her knees more without me asking, showing everybody how her cunt lips were already slicked wet.

The girls shyly touched here and there, petting her mons and thighs, making her catch her breath and forming a little sheen of sweat on her face and tits. With a little prodding from me, some of the girls took turns wiggling their fingers inside Crissy's dripping pussy, and one of her high school friends really got into it, digging two knuckles deep. Carly's sister had been holding back in the pack, but after watching everybody else having fun for a while, she rolled Carly's shiny clit between her fingers, too, making her big sister jump and everybody else gasp a little. That's when I went for the finale.

"Stimulating the vagina will result in an orgasm if you do it right," I said. "Let me demonstrate." Carly clenched up, but instead of stopping the game, she spread her thighs so wide that she was almost in a split. I thought she was gonna pull a muscle, the slut.

I dipped my finger into Carly's wet honey pot and lightly tickled her clit to build the tension, all the girls watching in breathless anticipation. Then I plunged two fingers into her cunt up to my knuckles; in and out, in and out, over and over, like some of her friends had been doing, only much more aggressively. Carly whimpered and closed her eyes as the girls huddled around closer, and I dug way deep inside, repeatedly jabbing her g-spot so hard that her big ol' titties were jiggling all over the place.

Pretty soon, Carly's lifted her ass off the coffee table and yelled "oh fuck!!!" and pulled on her own nips harder than the other girls had pulled on them. I couldn't help myself; her pussy looked so appetizing that I dove my face down into that slut's sloppy wet cunt. As soon as my tongue touched her slit, she yelled again and squeezed my ears tight between her thighs, and I bit hard on her clit to bring her to a big screaming orgasmic seizure while her little sister and all her friends gawked, their jaws hanging open and their faces as red as tomatoes as they watched her squirt a huge female load into mouth and all over my mom's coffee table.

Carly collapsed with exhaustion and released my head, and I wrapped up the lecture from the comfort of her crotch. "And that, class, was a big fucking orgasm!" I declared, then ran my tongue up the length of her glistening slit and kissed her pink clit one more time.

"Oh my god, Carly!" her little sister gasped. I guess that's when the bitch finally realized what had just happened, because she started sniffling and rolled off the table and ran to the bathroom to get her clothes, all without looking at anybody. When everyone else got over the shock, they acted all offended and said that I was crazy and left in a huff, leaving me to wipe the cunt juice off the table by myself. Dammit.

I guess I'd pushed them too far, and I think somebody must have told, because none of the girls' parents would let them come over after that. Somebody also told my mother and we had a "talk". I told her to fuck off – she wasn't around enough to stop me from doing whatever I wanted to do.

A new girl named Paige moved onto my block pretty soon after that and coincidentally ended up in most of my classes. I thought she was cute so I sat next to her at lunch when no one else did. She even agreed to come over to my house after school; I guess nobody had warned her parents about me yet.

Since there were only two of us, we played "mommy and daddy" instead of "doctor" It started silly with us messing with some of my old dolls, but then we added a part when we "put the kids to sleep" and it got better. We spent the rest of the afternoon in my bedroom, where we strip down to our underwear and kissed and cuddled and rubbed our bodies together. Didn't want to take things too fast, you understand.

A few days later when she came over again, I asked if she wanted to strip completely. She said she'd do it if I did, which sounded like a great idea to me. I got naked first and fingered myself on the bed while Paige laid beside me in her underwear, watching. Then I said it was only fair if I got to watch her, too. She was shy and just rubbed a little through her panties, so I helped her out by moving her panties out of the way. She got into it a little more, so I helped her out a little more by grabbing a brush off my nightstand (gently) fucking her with it.

Paige just loved that. She held her panties out of the way herself to let me concentrate on jamming the handle into her tight cunt real good. When she came, I impulsively stuck my face into her crotch and bit her clit. She screamed and I thought I'd hurt her, but then she asked me to do it again. So I did, and stayed down there nibbling and licking until she came again. Fifteen years old and I already loved to eat pussy.

I still had my face buried in her cunt an hour later when we heard my mom pull up in the driveway. Paige grabbed her clothes and snuck out the back door naked before we got busted; I took my time fucking myself with that brush before getting dressed.

She asked me to eat her cunt again the next day, and the day after that. I never got Paige to lick my pussy, but I'd finger myself and bring my juices up to our mouths as we kissed. It was pretty hot.

The next week, everything suddenly changed. Paige said she was really scared that someone would find out what we'd been doing and didn't want to come over that afternoon. I talked her into playing again one more time, but she refused to get naked and didn't seem to enjoy it any more even though she obviously loved our playtimes before. I guess she freaked out because she'd really enjoyed fucking around with another girl, or maybe the other little bitches had finally poisoned her mind against me. After all, I had a "reputation."

After that, I went out with guys once in a while just because I was bored, and I got the reputation for being a girl who teased but wouldn't put out. That made me even less popular. I didn't give a shit. It was fun to lead the boys on and then leave them hanging and horny. I certainly had no interest in letting them put their cocks anywhere near me.

After a while, I stopped pretending and started acting like I thought a dyke should act; cut my hair short and hung out with the skaters and burnouts and ravers. I fooled around with a few alternative chicks, but most of them only played the "bi-curious" game for attention. Even some of my sk8r-grrrl friends sighed when they talked about some fucking dumb-ass boy bands, which pissed me off to no end.

Another thing that really pissed me off in high school was that everyone else seemed to get a visit from the titty fairy except for me. One cheerleader bitch who I really hated called me "Skimboard" in front of all of her friends and everybody started doing it. At first it pissed me off, but I almost liked it after a while. It's better to be scorned than ignored, ya know?

But I got even with her and all the other bitches in PE class. I never denied the rumors that I was a lesbian, and I'd be real obvious about "scrubbing" my crotch while checking out the "popular" chicks when they were wet and naked in the shower. I even shaved my pussy bald so that they could see what I was doing while I stared at them. They hated me and attacked in packs like hyenas, but only with words. They were afraid to try anything more, tho, because my "posse" would have kicked their prissy little asses.

Anyway, I still think it's cool as shit that you frigged yourself at work looking at my pictures. They were a lot of fun to take. And I was serious about liking your email; I frigged myself just now reading about you going back to kiss that girl at Vecino Beach. You should have yelled for me to come back and get a piece of that action, too, you greedy whore!

That kind of stuff - showing off - has always excited me. Like I used to have a blast taking out the garbage. For real.

My mom had a second job in the evening (waitressing or whoring; I never really knew which) and came up with a list of chores for me to do when she was working late. One of the jobs was taking care of the trash. We had a metal push cart that held a garbage can and a recycling bin. I was supposed to take out the kitchen garbage, sort out the bottles and stuff, and push the whole thing out to the curb. I did the nasty job alright, mainly because if I didn't do it, nobody would, and I didn't want to live in a dumpster.

One night, I was already in bed when I realized that it was the night to take out the garbage. I didn't want to get up, so to encourage my lazy ass out from under the covers, I dared myself to do it as I was, without changing my clothes: an old nightshirt that had been washed so many times that it had gotten real thin and flimsy, and dried so many times that it had shrunk way shorter than it used to be, only reaching to the very top of my thighs. (Of course, I wasn't wearing any panties.)

It was fun. I hurried through the sorting, ran the cart out to the curb, and rushed back in. Then I went to bed and frigged myself. It was such a thrill that I decided to wear the nightshirt (and only the nightshirt) every time I took out the trash.

I'd do this kinda late when most of the lights were out the houses down our block, and even then, I'd do my job as fast as I could and dash back inside. But once I felt a little more comfortable that nobody was around, I started taking my time.

There was a big full moon overhead when I was out there one night. Just to be funny, I flipped up the back of my nightshirt while pushing the cart towards the street, mooning the moon. The material was too thin to stay up for long, but it gave me an idea.

The next trash night, I took a pair of scissors and cut my nightshirt a little shorter in the back. Now the bottoms of my ass cheeks peeked out when I walked out to the curb, and I could expose everything when I bent over; which, of course, I usually found reasons to do. I loved the added thrill, but wanted more. So I added to my self-dare — I dared myself to keep trimming the back of my nightshirt a little more every week.

I wouldn't cut much, just little slivers. But they added up. Once the back was so short that most of my ass was exposed all the time, I got nervous and started trimming the sleeves instead. When the sleeves were completely gone, I thought maybe I should just leave it be, figuring that walking out to the curb wearing only a long tank top was daring enough.

But my neighborhood was so dead after dark that I slowly re-convinced myself that I'd never get caught. Actually, I got kinda mad at myself for having stopped the game.

One night I decided to make up for all those times I'd pussed out and not trimmed the hem. I went ahead and cut a wide chunk from the bottom, but not just from the back – ALL the way around.

I'd meant to make it so that the hem ended about the bottom of my ass all around. I guess I was too eager. It was kinda shocking when I looked in the mirror and saw that it hung down to just past my hips, only a little bit longer than a regular t-shirt. That was it, I thought, the nightshirt game is over.

I put on sweatpants along with the little shirt. Out there sorting the recyclables, tho, the night seemed so quiet and the neighborhood so empty that I impulsively decided to play the game again after all. I shed my sweats and threw them angrily towards the front door before continuing with the sorting, carefree and bottomless.

I couldn't believe I had actually gone through with it and kept looking down to check myself out. It was a fucking rush to see my hairless cunny outside, sometimes in shadows and sometimes lit up by the streetlights as I strolled down my driveway to the curb. I was so fucking horny when I got back inside that I immediately rubbed myself and came on the front couch.

I loved the rush. Fuck the sweats – from then on, I was going to do the garbage wearing only the former nightshirt. And since I was already guilty of indecent exposure anyway, I decided to keep cutting away pieces from my outfit every time I took out the trash.

The next time, I cut out an upside-down "V" of material right in the front in front of my crotch so it was never covered. The week after that, I evened out the hem around my hipbones so that my pussy AND my ass were always in the open and I couldn't possibly stretch my shirt down far enough to cover them even if I wanted to. I left my outfit alone and shaved my pussy really close before exposing it the next week, figuring that that counted for trimming, too.

After a couple weeks, I cut off the entire back of the nightshirt. Now, my "outfit" was just a thin curtain in the front hanging down from my neck – kinda like those fake tuxedo fronts you see in cartoons. From the behind, it must've looked like I was totally nude. I'd wiggle my ass at the street like a stripper on my way back to the house.

Next, I started working on shortening that front curtain. It wasn't long before the bottom edge hung just below my nipples, which were always hard when I was playing the game. The flimsy material flapped as I walked, showing everybody who happened to be looking how excited I was.

The following week, I trimmed it above the nipple line so that my teeny titties completely joined the party. It looked like I was wearing just a cloth dog collar with a frill as I pushed the garbage cart out to the curb. That thought turned me the fuck on, so I continued on out into the middle of our street, ripped the "collar" off, and pranced back to the house butt-naked, dumping the tattered rags of my former nightshirt into the trash can on my way by.

After that, I just did the chore nude. The first time, I put on another nightshirt and made sure the coast was clear before stripping on the front stoop. It was always so quiet that bursting out the front door already naked became part of the challenge.

Once in a while, a car would drive by while I was sorting the bottles, but they never even slowed down. I got scared shitless one time when I got back to the front door right as my mom pulled into the driveway an hour early. I dove back inside before she saw me, I think. Not like she gives a shit anyway.

So that's how come I was out naked in the front yard every Tuesday night during my senior year in HS. At some point, somebody must have seen me and spread the word, because the neighbor boys got real friendly all of a sudden even though I still treated them like dirt. Their dads even more so, fucking old perverts. I'm sure I eventually had a big audience peeking at me through curtains up and down the street.

Once I figured that out, I decided to tease them even more by sitting on the front stoop and frigging myself before going inside. I did it standing a couple times to make sure I could be seen over the bushes.

Then I got a crazy idea to freak them out. I found a sex toy website and ordered a realistic-looking dick and balls dildo with a strap-on belt. The next Tuesday, I walked out to the curb looking like I had suddenly grown the biggest cock on the block. That must have confused the boys! When I was done, I detached the dildo and turned it around to use it on myself on the front stoop.

I finally moved out of my mom's house last July when I started college. I'd been wanting to get out of that fucking place forever, of course, but it was disappointing that the garbage game was going to end. So I decided to give the neighbors something to remember me by.

I shaved myself smooth again and took the dildo. Before even going over to the garbage cans, I plopped down in the middle of the front grass and fucked myself with it, lying on my back and then on all fours doggie-style, my pussy always facing the street, of course. After taking care of the garbage, I pulled a folding chair out to the middle of the front lawn and again rammed that dong up my cunt, putting my knees up on the arms of the chair so that anybody watching from most of the houses on the block would be able to see me jamming that big rubber cock in and out of my little cunny. A couple of cars went by, and one even slowed down a little. Who gives a shit - I didn't even pause until I squirted on the grass.

I hoped that somebody had been watching my farewell performance, and I got my wish. The lady across the street saw me packing my stuff into my friend's car the next day and gave me a look of pure disgust. I laughed and blew her a kiss. Wonder if she caught her fat husband or geek-ass son jacking off while watching me do my dong. Wonder if she helped them out, lol.

Now that I've moved out and the garbage game is done, I keep playing in other ways. Lately I've been wearing super low-cut jeans everywhere. They're so low that you could see the waistline of my panties all the way around my hips — if I was wearing any.

These jeans lace up in the front, and I'll tie them real loosely so they hang even lower if the situation is right. Sometimes I have them hanging so low that you could see all the way to the top of my bush — if I had any. The crotch dimples at the top of my inner thighs are out in the open and the jeans feel like they're going to fall down any second. Sometimes I let them.

This is easiest to do when I back get up after sitting down. Like a couple weeks ago I saw a hot chick in a halter top and tight jeans in the WestGate Mall food court. She wasn't wearing a bra and looked damn fine to me.

So I bought a soda, sat on a bench maybe 20 feet directly in front of her, and secretly untied the laces on my jeans. Casually fidgeting around a little while I sipped my drink made the laces good and loose. When I stood up quickly, my jeans fell down past my knees. (Of course, I wasn't wearing panties.)

Dramatically dropping my half-full cup of soda in fake surprise got her attention (and everybody else's), just like I'd hoped. I caught my jeans way down around my shins, bending over to give everyone to my rear a great look at my bare ass and cunny.

Poor little me was so embarrassed and flustered that I just couldn't seem to get those laces tied, and my jeans kept slipping back down to mid-thigh. I made sure that my pussy was always at least partially exposed the whole time and that I always faced the hot chick and, not coincidentally, the food court main seating area. It was around lunchtime and the place was fucking packed, mainly with business types and housewives, and everybody was staring at my smooth little cunny. But it was the hot chick who had a front-row seat.

Then I lured my her into the show. I put on a desperate face and pleaded for the hot chick to come help me with my laces. She hesitated, so I shuffled over to her table, asking her to hold up my jeans while I tied them, placing her fingers inside my waistband on either side of my pussy as I took my time with the knot. She obeyed silently and blushed real red when I pulled the laces tight and trapped her hands in the creases of my thighs. I hope I made her wish she was munching on my cunt instead of that nasty "bourbon chicken" on her plate.

I managed to get my jeans fastened right before the rent-a-cop security guy finally arrived. He tried to be the tough guy and threatened me with the (real) cops, so I whimpered that it was an accident and put on the crocodile tears; lots of pathetic drama.

The act worked. He told me to leave the mall and "wear a belt next time, for crissake!" I laughed and laughed at that comment later on. Right then, tho, I thanked the dumbass over and over and said that I'd go right home.

Somehow, my jeans got loose again as soon as I got outside – oops! Again, I pretended to be flustered and hurried to my car, making sure to hold them no higher than mid-thigh all the way across the busy parking lot. A couple of rich housewives in a big-ass SUV pulled into the parking spot beside me as I got to my car. They gave me a funny look as if they couldn't quite believe that they'd really seen my ass hanging out, so I peeled off my jeans completely and threw them in the back seat before unlocking my door. Their horrified expressions were priceless, so I stripped off my top as one of them got out of the SUV's passenger door right next to my open window. They hurried away and I blew them a kiss as I drove by them naked. It was a blast.

The ultimate flash, tho, came in June during my last week of high school. I missed the bus on purpose and begged my mom to borrow her car since I had a "big exam". I promised I'd be home in time for her to drive to work, so she let me. But I had already passed the class, so I didn't bother going to school. I had an idea to use my tiny tits to my advantage, and I was on my way to the beach.

First thing I did when I got there was find a surf shop and buy a pair of boy's board shorts. After I paid, I asked the airhead chicks behind the counter if I could use the bathroom to change and they said sure. I don't think they noticed that I went into the men's room.

When I came out wearing my new shorts, I stopped by the front door where I knew they could see me. They looked at me strangely when I took off my earrings and about fell over when I slipped out of my t-shirt. Now topless, I waved to them and grabbed my crotch on the way out.

It was the biggest fucking rush. Going outside naked in the dark or "accidentally" dropping your jeans in the mall for 30 seconds is one thing; walking around topless in broad daylight among hundreds of people is something else.

You really can get away with a lot of crazy shit if you just act like nothing is out of the ordinary, like you're supposed to be doing what you're doing. A skinny boy wouldn't have even teeny mounds like I have on my chest. Yet as I nonchalantly strolled along with my short hair and skimboard chest, everyone just assumed that I was a feminine-looking boy, no questions asked. Maybe they thought I had some sort of hormone imbalance, lol. A few people looked me over a little oddly, but I pretended not to notice and nobody said anything. A lot of the lookers were "other" teen boys. Wonder if they thought they were turning gay, LOL

I got so confident that I dumped my t-shirt in the car and walked into a busy lunchtime deli. The girl in line in front of me was around my age. She was wearing a skimpy bikini and her skin was dark and she had big tits for her size. She had a strong accent and I guessed she was from Brazil or someplace. I introduced myself as "Chris" and started flirting. The college-aged guy behind the sandwich counter kept looking at my chest kinda funny, so I turned and blew him a kiss as I left with my order. Blew his mind, probably.

Anyway, the Brazilian chick was dumb as a rock and I took advantage. We had a picnic on the beach, then made out in the sand until some old guy told us to "get a room", so we did. She was staying at a fancy hotel with her family, but she told me that they'd gone off somewhere and the room was empty. I took her hint and we went back to the hotel. I untied her top in the elevator and sucked on her big brown titties until the door opened, and when nobody was waiting in the hallway, I untied her bottoms so she ran to the room naked. I followed her to her bed but left the door to the room wide open as I kissed and fingered her, just for another thrill. The slut begged me to fuck her, not even caring that the door was open. I told her that I never fucked on a first date and offered to eat her cunt instead. What a fucking gentleman, right?

Her older brother walked in without warning (the door was still open) while she was naked and spread-eagle with my face buried in her juicy pussy. He started yelling in Spanish or Portuguese or whatever and she started crying and tried to cover herself. The brother looked like he was going to kill me so I took off. That stupid bitch will never know she's had a lesbian experience, lol.

I drove all the way home before putting my top back on. My sunburn gave me away and my mom grounded me for skipping school, but it was worth it.

Gotta go. See ya, cuntlicker.


By the time Sherry had finished reading Crissy's email, her work slacks and panties were around her ankles and she had already tickled herself to two orgasms. She shook her head to clear it and got a towel to clean up herself and the desk chair.

As she wiped, Crissy's email kept running through her head. Now that she'd gotten over the initial excitement, some of those exhibitionist stories seemed a bit far-fetched. Dropping her jeans in the mall? Walking around topless at a crowded beach? Dildoing herself in the front lawn? Whatever. Although Sherry wasn't sure how much of Crissy's tale was true and how much was BS, it had definitely made her hot as hell.

They continued to exchange emails over the following week. Crissy seemed much more interested in discussing Sherry than herself. She wanted to know more about Sherry's trip to Beach Bunnies and all about the Jump Rope Girl and everything else Sherry had mentioned.

Crissy also seemed determined to prove that Sherry was a "lesbo", pointing out how much they had in common. Sherry replied that she liked Kyle just fine and he was a guy, but Crissy claimed that Sherry's attraction to Kyle showed that she was looking for "feminine features." Sherry was puzzled and a little irritated by that comment until she stopped to think about it.

Kyle was very physically fit, as you'd expect from someone who kept in shape in his disparate careers as a personal trainer and budding lawn care guru. But his muscles were more long and lean than big and burly. He had tried to bulk up but never could; Sherry had long envied his ability to eat like a pig and never gain weight. Thinking about it, Sherry realized that her boyfriend's body wasn't that much different from that of the athletic Latina babe in a bathtub from her dad's Playboy magazine who had caught her fancy so long ago.

Kyle also didn't have much body hair; just a bit at the center of his chest. She had always enjoyed the way the thin fair hair on his arms and legs suddenly appeared when sunlight hit them from the side, and how smooth his hard abs felt against her skin. He only needed to shave a couple of times a week, and she'd teased him about the sparse goatee he'd grown out once or twice since they'd been together.

Besides his appearance, Kyle was one of the most mild-mannered guys that Sherry had ever known, certainly the nicest that she'd ever known well. He was also a very good listener and wasn't particularly aggressive or obnoxious. These are all traits, Sherry admitted, that are usually associated with women.

And it was she, not Kyle, who was hesitant about committing to a more serious relationship. He'd invited her to move to his apartment when her lease expired and she'd declined, saying she "needed her space." He'd even dropped hints about rings, but just the thought of it scared her to death.

Putting it all together, Sherry realized that Crissy might have a point.

After having a few glasses of wine late one night, Sherry admitted in an email to Crissy that perhaps Kyle was a substitute for what she really wanted: a girlfriend. "Or," she mumbled to herself cynically, "maybe Crissy is a substitute for another guy."

It was late Thursday afternoon when Crissy emailed that she and some friends planned to "hit some clubs" Friday night and asked Sherry to join them. Sherry always hung out with Kyle on the weekends, but he was obviously not invited. She'd seen him less than usual that week, partly because they were both busy at work and partly because just showing up at each other's door seemed inappropriate with the tension still lingering between them.

Sherry really wanted to smooth things over and decided that running off mysteriously without her boyfriend on a Friday night was no way to repair their relationship. So right before leaving the office, Sherry typed up an email declining Crissy's invitation.

But after scanning it for typos, she couldn't bring herself to send it. Kyle was important to her, but she wanted Crissy with every ounce of her libido and she couldn't possibly turn down the chance to see her again.

With a click of the mouse, the email expressing her regrets was gone. Her new reply to Crissy was short and to the point:

"I'll be there. Love, Your Cuntlicker"

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