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.

I was being silly too, playfully fighting with him over who got eggs out the fridge and stuff. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable with how I was dressed, but it also got me pretty hot seeing how flustered he was. Even soft, my nipples are large and they poked out little tents in the thin shirt, but when we were playing, they got hard ... and well ... they made their presence known. They are probably a ½ inch thick and maybe just a touch longer when all twisted up.

I found it so exciting to be showing myself off like this to Donald's roommate. We were both enjoying it, but the cool part was that neither of us acknowledged what was happening. I was exhibiting a little bit and he was looking a lot. I made it a point to look away a lot, like daydreaming looking outt the window and stuff so that he could get some nice free looks. I liked the feel of him looking at me, his eyes caressing my body. I have to admit, there was a certain thrill knowing that Donald was just down the hall. I knew Philly loved that I was only wearing the tee shirt even if he didn't say anything. His shorts told the tale.

My heart beat fast all day long after my little exhibitionist deal. I thought about it all week long.

The following weekend, I decided to stay the entire weekend since we would be going to a party on Saturday night. Donald and I went out Friday, got in pretty late and went right to bed. The following morning, I got up early and looked in Donald's drawers for something to wear, and I found this kind of muscle t-shirt. It was one of those things with no sleeves and a couple of fairly thin straps that went over your shoulders. Because it was his, it was big enough to cover my butt so I didn't have to wear anything else underneath it. The thing was that since the arm holes came down to almost my waist, the sides of my breasts were clearly visible. I checked it out in the mirror and it was sexy as all get out; maybe too much - the material was thin enough that you could sort of see the darkness of my areolas. Pretty much anything I did would reveal me in one way or another.

I thought about wearing something else, but then I thought about how Philly was checking me out last weekend. I wanted to let him see more. I guess it's almost an addiction for me. I hadn't done anything like this since starting art school and I don't think I could've stopped myself if I wanted to; the urge was just so strong. I checked to make sure that Donald was still out. Again, I knew it would've sent him ballistic if he knew I was going to go out and have breakfast with his roommate dressed like this. This tee shirt was much more provocative than last week's version.

My heart rate was cranked up when I walked out into the living room. My nipples were cranked up tight and my breasts were bouncing and swaying just slightly. Sure enough, I could smell fresh brewed coffee and Philly was reading the paper at the table. I said good morning as I padded barefoot by him into the kitchen.

I opened the cupboard and stood on tiptoes stretching to reach for a coffee cup. I could feel his eyes devouring me from behind. The shirt had lifted to show the bottom of my butt cheeks as I got my cup down. I made my coffee and went to sit at the table with him. I smiled over my cup as I took my first sip of coffee. The material of the shirt was so thin that I knew he could pretty much see my nipples right though it, even if they hadn't been rock hard and threatening to rip holes through the material. I felt sexier than I had in months just sitting here in this thin t-shirt talking to Philly. I sat cross-legged on the chair and when I looked down I could see my pussy. Philly couldn't see it from where he was sitting, but just the idea that he could if he walked by me or looked under the table was good enough for me. I could tell that he really enjoyed having me here with him too.

He was all smiles as he asked what I wanted for breakfast. I thought about it as I drank my coffee and finally told him pancakes ... I wanted pancakes for breakfast.

The kitchen was sunny and bright; it got the morning sun. It was great place to work and when I started to get up to help with breakfast, Philly told me not to worry about it; he could handle it. I smiled and got up anyway to help. I joined him in the kitchen and he asked me to get the eggs out of the fridge. When I opened the door, I held it open as I bent in to get the eggs and gave him a view right into my shirt. The big open armpits of the shirt sagged open and revealed my breasts to him for the first time. Feeling his eyes on me, I turned to look at him and he was staring down at me. "What?" I smiled. "Do you need something else?"

"No, no, no," he kind of stammered. "I was just thinking how glad I am that we get to have these breakfasts together. They're the highlight of my week."

I smiled back at him, still holding the door open, still showing him my breasts. "Mine too," I said. "I love doing this."

"Yeah, me too," he smiled.

I got the eggs and brought them back to him. I stepped up on tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You're sweet," I told him as my breasts rubbed against his arm.

It all seemed innocent enough, but it was so erotic. I was wildly aroused.

I was pretty sure that Philly thought I was oblivious to what I was showing, but I could tell that it was turning him on something fierce as well. When I bent down to get a pan out of the cupboard, I felt the front to the shirt billow out, and again I just knew he was looking down my shirt at my hard nipples. My pussy was soaking wet from all this teasing. I found the pan I was looking for and put it on the stove to warm up.

I got out the scoop and was getting ready to start cooking when he pushed me out of the way, saying that he was going to make breakfast. I punched him on the shoulder and held up the spatula as if to strike him with it.

"You just get over there and out of the way and drink your coffee. I'm cooking this morning," I threatened. "You can pour me another cup of coffee though."

He reluctantly agreed, but I knew he would enjoy this more and so would I.

The stove was next to a window and when cooking I was standing right in front of the window. He made the coffee and when he turned to give it to me he was greeted with my body in profile in the morning sun. I knew the shirt turned almost invisible in the strong light coming though the window. My large nipples were prominently displayed. He just stood there and talked to me as I cooked. Whenever I leaned forward to flip a pancake, the shirt would billow open and he could see my perky breasts right through the arm holes. I can't even tell you how sexy it made me feel to be letting him see my breasts like this. I found his discretion or maybe shyness really appealing.

I loved showing off for him. I've always loved this sort of teasing where neither party acknowledges what's happening. I hadn't done this in so long that it almost took my breath away with excitement. I had a hard time staying focused on our conversation. Since I was cooking, I was looking there and he was looking at me as we chatted. It was pretty wild to have a strange man looking at me with lust. I could tell he liked what he saw by the tent he kept trying to inconspicuously hide in his shorts.

We finally sat down to have our breakfast and the time just blew away as we ate and chatted. The whole time we were sitting there I had my legs open under the table occasionally touching myself and adjusting my pussy lips so that they were splayed open like a butterfly. While he never knew what I was doing, the idea that he could had me nuts.

Before I knew it, it was time for me to get into the shower. A few minutes after that Donald got up and joined me. I was so hot that I practically raped the poor guy. He had no idea why he got so lucky first thing in the day and I didn't tell him. It was really too bad in the long run; had he allowed me my exhibitionist streak, he would've had unexpected bouts of great sex a lot more often.

Later in the day, I went through Donald's t-shirt drawer looking for more shirts to wear. I found a couple more of the muscle tees that were even more threadbare and one had some holes in it, and was torn in places. That would be tomorrow's shirt ... I couldn't wait.

The next morning when I got up, Donald tried to get me to sleep later, but all he wanted to do was sleep and there was no way I could sleep any longer. I got the shirt out of the drawer; it was all worn out with holes all over it. It looked like he had smoked some seedy pot with it or something. Most of the holes were small - maybe the size of a seed up to maybe a dime. But there was one hole about the size of a half dollar on the left breast. When I put the shirt on, that hole was just to the right of my nipple and you could see the edge of my areola - dark, reddish-brown and sharply contrasting against the white skin of my breast. This was a really daring outfit; depending on how I turned, my nipple could easily pop out that hole. This shirt fit like the other one with the large armholes extending almost to my waist; my breasts could easily fall out if not careful. Add to that the fact that this tee shirt was so thin and worn that it was almost transparent. I looked in the mirror and could see the dark skin of my crinkled areola around each hard nipple. This was much thinner than yesterday's shirt.

Perfect!

I slid the screen open that served as a door to Donald's room, stepped out and then quietly slipped it shut again, making sure to secure it. I slogged down the hall to the living room and kitchen beyond. I acted all tired and just waved to Philly on my way to the coffee pot. Once I got my coffee made, I made my way back to the table and sat down. Philly was reading the Sunday paper. I reached over and grabbed a section and folding my legs underneath me, settled in to read it. After a couple of minutes, I pretended I had an itch and reached around absently to scratch it and felt my nipple pop out of the hole in shirt. When I settled back to reading the paper, the material of the shirt just hung up on it. When a few minutes later I reached for another section of the paper, I noticed Philly staring over his paper at me.

I smiled and asked what he was staring at. He just smiled a little red faced and told me that I just looked really good in the morning. He said most girls had to get made up to be presentable, but it seemed like I could just roll out of bed, throw on an old tee shirt and still be sexy as hell. I smiled at him, but I felt my nipple twisting up and I knew he could see it swelling.

"You're such a sweetheart Philly. You better be careful ... I might decide to switch boyfriends. Then you'd be in real trouble."

"I don't think so," he smiled. "I'd just make sure to take proper care of you is all."

I laughed. "Does that mean you're going to make breakfast for me?"

"Nope, we're going to do that together, I don't want to get punched out again like yesterday."

I laughed and got up with him to head into the kitchen. Getting up caused the shirt to move and my nipple slid back inside again. My heart was beating a mile a second now. As usual, I was out of control, I knew it but seemed to be powerless to stop it. I just love showing off and it gets me into more trouble.

Today was going to be French toast, but when I went into the kitchen, yesterday's dishes were still sitting there.

I started to give him crap about cleaning up after yesterday's meal and he responded by jokingly calling me a bitch.

I turned to him laughing holding the sprayer from the sink. "Take that back or I'm going to shoot you," then decided to do it anyway at point blank range.

I hit him right in the face with a spray of warm water.

He didn't hesitate, he reached out and grabbed for the spray nozzle. We fought for it and by the time it was over, there was water all over the floor and both of us.

We were both laughing hysterically. I shushed Philly; I didn't want Donald to come out and find us like this. "We better get this cleaned up or we're in big trouble when Dad gets up" I joked.

I ran to get some towels from the hall closet to dry up the floor. I listened outside of the screen that served as a door for Donald's room and there wasn't a sound. I looked down at my tee shirt and it was exactly as you would expect, totally transparent. I could even see the tuft of hair at the top of my pussy. The soaked shirt was clinging to my ass too.

I came quietly running back into the living kitchen with some towels. I could feel my breasts bounce and Philly's eyes taking everything in as I came into the kitchen. I threw him some towels.

I just couldn't resist - I got down on my hands and knees and started to wipe up the water on the floor. I could see him in the reflection of the oven door. He was mopping up water, but was also trying to get behind me. I smiled to myself and with my heart in my throat, accommodated him by turning to get water in the corner by the stove. With the sunlight coming through the window, he could see everything. In the reflection I saw him sit back on his heels and just stare at my exposed pussy. I finished mopping up the water on the floor, but I was insanely turned on. I knew my pussy was open and wet; he could see the inner lips and the coral pink tunnel inside.

When I finished, I turned and looked at him. "Hey come on buddy, get to work, I'm not the only one who made a mess here," I smiled.

I was sideways to him now and the way the shirt hung, he could see my breasts hanging and swaying as I mopped up the floor. My nipples were painfully swollen and seemed to be getting even harder and darker as I put on this show for him. I'm sure he thought it was all accidental and I think that got him even more worked up. You could almost smell sex in the room.

I stood up and finally looked down at my shirt. It was still soaking wet.

"Oh great ... look at this, I look like a little slut standing here in a wet tee shirt."

The shirt clung to my breasts and you could see every little bump of my twisted up areola, never mind my hard nipples. Philly just looked at my breasts with a smile and told me that he thought I looked just great.

"You would," and I punched him again in the belly playfully. "You did this to me, you know."

"Well you shot me with water, what did you expect?" he argued.

"Well ... ok ... maybe, but you shouldn't have called me a bitch!" I countered.

I stood there for a moment thinking and finally said, "Well I guess it doesn't matter now, you've seen it all anyway, just don't say anything to Donald. I can't go in the room to change now or I'll wake him up. He'll go crazy if he knows we had a water fight and you saw me like this."

"Why do I think he'd go crazy in a different way than I'm going crazy? You look really, really good." He laughed, "But don't worry, there's no way I'd mention this to him; you're right, he wouldn't understand."

I smiled but also noticed that he also didn't offer me one of his tee shirts either.

I smoothed the shirt down over my breasts and looked at him with a shy smile and said "They're kind of small, but they don't look too bad now, do they?"

"Fuck no, they're perfect. You should just take the shirt off so you don't get a chill," he smiled.

"Nice try Philly, but it's time to get your eyes back in your head and make me some breakfast before I get cranky. You've seen more than you should've already."

By the time we finished breakfast, my shirt had dried and I was halfway decent again. I caught Philly staring at my breasts several times during breakfast. It was a pretty hot time for both of us, but once again, it was close to 11 and I had to get into the shower.

All week long I was wild, crazy horny over what I had done. I had no idea where this was going, but I did know where my relationship with Donald was headed. It was only going to be a matter of time before I broke up with him for good. We were starting to slip back into the old rhythms again and I wasn't going to be dealing with that. This escapade with Philly reminded me of what I missed and I wasn't going to have anyone stop me again. Donald really deserved to be with a nice girl who would play to violent jealousy better than me. I knew I was tempting the fates but couldn't bring myself to stop. I was totally caught up in my adventure with Philly.

I wondered what he thought.

It's kind of funny really. Most girls would be looking for ways to defuse the situation and I was trying to figure how to step it up and not look like a slut doing so. I knew I was acting sluttish, but I don't think Philly viewed it that way. I think he just saw it as really sexy and kind of out of the blue.

I had an idea of what I wanted to do next, but wasn't sure if I could make it happen or not ... or if I had the nerve.

When I got to Donald and Philly's house on Friday night, the guys had been drinking for a few hours and both were pretty lit, so all plans of going out pretty much went out the window. I was really ok with that anyway. My plan involved Donald getting a pretty good buzz. I searched though my purse and scared up a nice fat joint and fired it up. We all got a good buzz going. I drank some tequila for my nerves and just enjoyed hanging out with the guys watching a hockey game.

By the time the game ended and we wound down, it was a little after 1 in the morning and time to go to bed. We were all fairly loaded, me less than the guys. I finally said good night to Philly and went to take a quick shower, mostly to clear my head. When I was done, wrapped in a towel, I went back into the living room and laughing, dragged Donald off to bed to Philly's catcalls about keeping it down and how he wanted to sleep tonight.

I had plans for Donald though and couldn't make such promises. I could hear Philly turning off all the lights and locking the doors.

I didn't have much time if my plan was to work. I knew that Donald wouldn't be paying too much attention right now, he was pretty drunk. I dragged him over to his bed, turned on the bedside lamp and went back to the door to turn off the main room lights.

Donald had this crazy door on his room that was more like some sort of accordion structure. It was cheap and the landlord had put it there to avoid the cost of putting an actual door in place. It was made out of some sort of stiff vinyl material. The thing was supposed to be held closed by a magnet strip that was screwed into the door jamb. You'd pull it across the opening and the magnets would hold it closed. The thing was that if you didn't get it to stick then the door would stay open about 7or 8 inches. This is what I was counting on.

The other factor that played into my plan was how the bedrooms were set up. Philly's room was kitty corner across the hall. The door was offset from Donald's by maybe 3 feet. That meant that if he wanted to, and the door wasn't closed properly, he could sit in his room and see everything happening on the bed in Donald's room.

Donald knew that of course and so was always really careful about attaching the door properly. While he never said it, I'm pretty sure it was that he didn't want to have Philly get his rocks off watching us do stuff. Tonight though, he was drunk and not paying any attention to the door.

I closed the door, but didn't attach it to the magnets. Donald was lying on the bed. I could hear Philly walking down the hall to his room. He was shutting off lights as he went. I dropped my towel by the door and walked over to the bed. Donald was already naked and ready for me. As I lay down with him, I heard the footsteps stop outside in the hall. I smiled to myself.