I woke up this morning with my hand in my panties dreaming about the dorky pizza boy. I wonder if he has a big dick? I wonder what it looks like? At this stage I’ve only ever seen a picture of one in a book my mum got me. An educational book, duh! She’s not buying me porn.

Anyway the guy was a dork. I think the only reason I was dreaming about him was because he got all flustered when he saw my nipples poking out under my t-shirt. So. Much. Fun.

I was telling you about the next day. It’s a Saturday morning and I promised Kate I would come over. Her parents want to repaint her bedroom so she has to take down all the posters she has stuck up over the years. I think it’s pink under there somewhere.

She doesn’t live far away. Just around the corner from me there’s a big park that’s a shortcut to her street. It’s a nice park. Lots of grass, a bunch of trees, a small playground and a cricket oval up the far end. Somehow it’s not too skeezy and most of the graffiti is lover’s initials carved into a couple of picnic tables. When it’s really hot we like to lie in the shade and perv on the boys throwing frisbees or kicking a soccer ball.

Sorry I’m getting distracted again. This is starting to sound like a real-estate advert for a fucking park! I’ll try again: my place, the street, the park, Kate’s street.

It’s a warm day so I decided I’m going to wear a sundress. It’s weird how something I wore when I was a little kid, then wouldn’t be seen dead in once I turned 10 is now something I like wearing again. I have a collection of them. I like how they leave my shoulder’s bare, and the bottom half of my legs too. But they don’t have a plunging neckline so they’re good for goofing around. They’re perfect for warm days. The straps on them are pretty wide too, so they hide my bra straps. It occurs to me that I can’t work out why I don’t want people to see my bra straps. It’a not like it’s a secret bra!

As all this is going through my head I get an odd thought: If nobody can see my bra straps, nobody would know if I was wearing one. And if nobody knows I was wearing one, then nobody would know if I wasn’t wearing one. Remember when this was all happening I was still wearing a bra most of the time.

If you’re paying attention you’ll have guessed that that Saturday was the first day that I didn’t wear a bra.

I finish getting dressed. If you’re trying to picture me, I’m 150cm, C-cup boobs, wearing doc marten lace-up boots, a sundress, plain white panties, and no bra. I decide to put it in my backpack just in case I’m arrested or end up in hospital or something.

Having made the decision, I’m instantly horny. I’m not doing this because my bra is uncomfortable. It is, but I’m doing it because it turns me on. I get a tingle just thinking about someone seeing me even if they have no idea I’m not wearing anything under my dress. I like that tingle.

I head down stairs and call out goodbye to mum. I don’t want to see her. She has ESP or something and she’ll know I’m not wearing it and then we will have to talk about it and, yeah, let’s not do that. Mum is cool and all, but she’s still mum. And that means she has Serious Talks.

“Bye mum! Going to Kates!” I yell.

“See you sweetie, have fun and be safe”, she calls from up the passage somewhere. Aww yes! Mission accomplished.

Just as I’m thinking I dodged that one, I open the front door and there’s Geoffrey! Mum’s boyfriend is standing right there about to knock, I’m standing there freaking out staring at him. Can he tell? He gives me a smile and says, “You look nice today Helen”.

Nice? He thinks I look “nice”? Is he thinking about my tits? Can he tell there’s no bra under my dress? Is he being a creep? I mentally slap myself and mumble a quick thank you as I slip past him. Geoffrey is a cool guy. I’ve never got a vibe from him.

But now my nipples are hard. I can feel them rubbing on my dress as I walk. Luckily the pattern of my dress hides them fairly well. But I’m turned on something shocking. I wonder what he’d do if he could tell. Would he get turned on? Would he try to fuck me? He wouldn’t. As I said he’s not a creep. So I don’t think he would. Right?

I hurry to the park, enjoying having my nipples rubbed by my dress. They’re very sensitive and I’m loving this. I should have done it ages ago. There’s a cool breeze blowing around my legs and it’s far more free to not have a bra on. I wonder what it would be like if I wasn’t wearing panties. Would the breeze on my puss feel nice. Somehow I know it would.