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From: tonyreeno@yahoo.com (Tony Reeno)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 10 Jul 2003 12:49:06 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} CARLA THE SHOWOFF (Parts 6-10) (exh, MF, MMF)
Date: Thu, 10 Jul 2003 15:10:04 -0400
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CARLA THE SHOWOFF
by Tony Reeno

DISCLAIMER:  Of course this is a work of FICTION.  Of course the
characters do not exist.  Of course this is solely borne out of the
twisted mind of the author, Tony Reeno.  And of course you should not
try this at home, under any circumstances.  These are trained
professionals.  You have been warned!  Finally, of course you should
not read this if you are under 18 years of age and/or living in a
place that deems erotic fiction (and by extension, pornography)
illegal.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This is a sequel to FLIRTING WITH EXHIBITIONISM AND
INCEST.  It continues the story of Tony and Carla.  Indeed, Carla
takes very prominent center stage in this story (both figuratively and
literally, as you shall see).  It is not necessary to read the first
story in order to understand and enjoy this one, but if you haven't
read FLIRTING. . ., know that it also deals with Tony, Carla and
exhibitionism.  My stories build slowly but steadily, in my opinion. 
They are certainly not as explosive and bombastic as some of the
fiction on the Internet, but I strive for realism and character
development.  I find it much more of a turn-on to hear about the
subtle, seductive and erotic behavior of a well fleshed out character
than the crazy and almost cartoonish sexual gymnastics of an ensemble
of one-dimensional characters.

To those of you who have written with your thoughts and encouragement
in the past, my sincere thanks for your feedback and for reading.  As
always, comments, questions and your own stories (true and otherwise)
are most welcome.  Contact me at: tonyreeno@yahoo.com


VI
The beach episode was one bout of exposure after the other.  Carla
wore a thin top that consisted of the proverbial tiny twin triangles
doing their best to conceal her pendulous breasts.  The bottom
consisted of a tiny-string that her puffy bald pudenda bulged out in a
cute triangular-shaped package.  She was a sight.  Men and women alike
ogled her.  Some lusted after her, some admired her tan, and some
probably couldn't believe she could be that audacious in the company
of her boyfriend and younger friend.

Tommy and I were no exceptions to the ogling rule.  We gaped at
Carla's brazen antics, whether she was lying on a beach towel,
sauntering along the surf, going for a long walk or simply bending
over and reaching into the cooler for another brew disguised as a
soda.

The condo was spacious.  The bedroom held a king-sized bed.  Tommy was
assigned the massive L-shaped living room couch as his bed.  No
complaints from him, since it could easily accommodate half a dozen
weightlifters with room to spare.

The show didn't stop at night.  I paced my liquor intake to keep tabs
on Carla's antics, but my gorgeous girlfriend didn't hold back.  She
put away one wine cooler after the next on the first night, switched
to Merlot on the second and stuck with wine for our third and final
night at the condo.

We ate some great meals and drank and watched movies on cable.  And we
drank.  And joked with each other.  Played some Scrabble and Trivial
Pursuit (that rage of the `80s).  And Carla drank some more.  And a
little more.  Inhibitions?  Gone with the sea breeze and the smoke
trailing off her endless supply of lit cigarettes.

It was on the third night that trouble ensued.  Or maybe it wasn't
trouble, but merely the inevitable.  I awoke to darkness.  The
radio-alarm on the nightstand read 2:30.  Carla was missing from her
side of the bed.  I waited for a flushing sound from the bathroom, a
faucet signaling running water.  None came.

Two-thirty became three and three became quarter of four.

Carla returned to the bedroom at 4:15.  She was completely naked.

I was sitting up against the headboard.  There was enough moonlight
filtering in for her to spot me immediately.  She jumped on the bed. 
I opened my mouth to speak but she pressed a finger to my lips and
shushed me.  Her fingers smelled of tobacco and her breath, of wine.

"SSSSSHHHHH!  Don't ask, please.  I'll behave from now on."

"What does that mean?"

Her answer was a sloppy kiss.  I tasted Merlot on her lips and tongue.
 A few minutes later and she was sleeping softly beside me, leaving me
to ponder the mystery of her absence.

Carla refused to speak of the incident the next morning.   She only
said that "Tommy's happy he came with us.  He likes me.  When I'm
ready to say more, I will, okay?  But I just can't talk about it right
now.  I'm feeling strange.  I'm sorry, baby.  Please don't push me
about this thing.  Please."

I was no dummy.  It was pretty clear what had happened, especially
after reading Tommy's look that day, a look that screamed guilt,
embarrassment and eager-to-please puppy all rolled into one.

I was genuinely worried about Carla.  About Tommy.  About myself.  I
tried to talk to her about it but she grew irritated and avoided me. 
A few nights later, my girlfriend promised that she was my girl and my
girl exclusively, period.

Tommy didn't visit our apartment the week of our return from the
beach.  Carla said that he must've found a girlfriend.  The following
week, we ran into his uncle by the mailboxes.  I noted the look of
apprehension on Carla's face, but then the guy waved to us.  He
explained that Tommy's visit was over and that he had returned home. 
The man thanked us for showing his nephew such a fine time during his
visit.  Carla told him it was our pleasure and be sure to say hi when
he spoke to Tommy again.


VII
Carla behaved for a few weeks after the Tommy incident.  I think
whatever occurred at the condo spooked her.  I'm not saying that Tommy
did something to her or threatened her in any way.  Rather, I think
that Carla's own desires and her capacity to go full-throttle into
major taboo territory shook her up.  In other words, she scared
herself.  The result was a strong attempt on my girlfriend's part to
channel her desires into our own sex-life.  Carla is the only woman I
know whose libido matched mine.  Scratch that:  Carla is the only
person I know whose libido surpassed mine.

 I reflected back on the Carla I had met one short year or so ago at
college.  She had been fun and feisty, but that other Carla was a shy
and reserved wallflower compared to the new woman I found myself
living with on a daily basis.  I think that Carla's own erotic
blossoming dovetailed with my own home exposures.  She loved to hear
about my total nudity around my mother.  When she saw me doing it,
there seemed to be no turning back.  The floodgates of desire began to
crack and she contributed to my home shows by actually fondling my
naked penis in front of my mother.  Once we moved in together, the
floodgates cracked completely.  Carla discovered just how much fun it
could be to be the object of desire.  Rather than an outsider, a
voyeuristic witness, Carla began to want to be the active participant
and focal point of the exposure games.

Tommy had been the perfect audience, eager to see more of Carla
exposing herself.  But whatever happened with Tommy (it was never
really completely clear to me) stayed in the past.  We started having
more fun together.  We were inventive and had a blast in the confines
of our apartment, but as the weeks stretched on and our sexual hunger
began to ebb a bit, Carla began to grow restless.  Oh, she didn't
speak of it.  She didn't have to.  It was obvious.  She still wanted
sex as much as ever, but it took more and more stimuli to get her off.
 She loved to spend long periods of time recounting our previous
exposure incidents.  "Tell me a story, Baby," she would say, tossing
herself back on the bed and letting her fingers trail over her nude
body.  It was my cue to start recounting some of our previous
exploits.  Carla loved for me to simply tell her what I used to do at
home.  It didn't have to be explosively sexual, either.  Just
recounting the times I used to lounge around stark naked in front of
my mother would pacify her, as did my stories of bathing in front of
my mother and, eventually, masturbating in front of her.  Carla would
lay back in bed as I told her the stories, her eyes glazed with lust,
her nude body sprayed by a sheen of perspiration as she worked her
fingers and hands expertly over her vagina and inside it, rubbing her
clit from one thundering orgasm to the next.  These sessions would
always culminate by my flipping her over and banging into her from
behind, my shaft buried hilt-deep in her wetness as it hugged me
tight, my groin slapping into her more than generous buttocks, the
room filled with the sound of smacking bodies and the scent of sex.

But eventually that wasn't enough for Carla.  The stories were always
treasures to her, but she needed to increase her sexual high.  We
started to frequent an X-rated bookstores on the outskirts of the
city.  We took to renting a few movies every weekend.  That lasted for
a few weeks.  Then Carla started making solo trips to the store during
the week.  Carla increased our "porno nights" from once to three times
a week.  And she informed me that more and more often, she was having
at least one "porno day" when I was gone.

It was around this time that Carla decided to drop out of school for
the semester.  I was a bit surprised.  When I first met her, Carla was
quite studious.  Don't get me wrong; she loved to have tons of fun,
too, but up to this point, she had taken her school very seriously. 
It seemed that moving out of her parents' home gave her a sudden
freedom that she had never experienced under their stern eyes and
disciplined structure.  Carla would eventually return to school, but
dropping out became a pattern with her, and completing a semester was
always iffy from this point on.

Carla was gifted and intelligent, but she was also growing
increasingly consumed by her hedonistic desires to the extent that
they began to interfere with her day-to-day existence.  Maybe the
latter statement is too harsh.  More accurately, Carla discovered that
her libido and desires were far greater than she'd ever imagined, and
rather than try to curtail them, she decided to indulge herself.  My
girlfriend literally changed her life patterns to be able to provide
herself with more and more sensual and sexual pleasures.

I tried to talk her out of quitting school that first semester, but
she advised me not to bother doing so, that she was so far behind in
her reading and studying that she was literally flunking out of three
of her four classes.  She blamed it on bad luck this semester,
explaining that all her Profs were "shitty and incompetent."  Well, if
you're in school long enough, you do run into shitty professors now
and then.  But three in one term?  That's rare.  Still, I chose not to
quibble with her.  It was, after all, her decision.  She promised to
get a part-time job for a while and help with bills and she did,
working twenty hours a week at a card store at the mall.  The new job
suited Carla's current mindset perfectly.  She didn't have to study
and spend long hours researching her subjects at the library.  She had
much more free time at home and she put it to good use.

On many occasions during that semester, I got home from my classes or
work and found Carla sprawled on the living room couch, naked and
masturbating to a porno flick in the VCR.  I'll confess that watching
Carla with spread tanned legs, pretty toes gripping the edge of the
coffee table, inserting a dildo deep into herself with one hand and
using the other to dance her fingers furiously over her clit was an
arousing site to behold and I would frequently attack her.  Carla
laughed wildly and drunkenly (a lot of afternoons she was riding a
dual high - buzzed on porno and wine or wine coolers).  Our marathon
would continue until I was completely spent.

"Did anyone ever tell you you're positively insatiable?" I said after
one of our sessions.

"Yeah."

"Oh?  Who?"

"You, silly!  Remember?  Yesterday!"

VIII
Carla loved to be nude so much that she called it "addicting." The
minute she got to our apartment, off came the few clothes she bothered
to wear:  sandals, cutoff shorts and a blouse.  She never wore a bra
and only once in a very great while did she bother with a micro-thin
thong.  If we were in for the rest of the day and night, then Carla
was nude for the duration. If we happened to be running to the grocery
store quickly, she'd usually wear an oversized T-shirt that ended
about two or three inches below her butt. Sometimes she'd wear her
sandals, other times she'd wear her red toe nail polish and nothing
else on her tootsies :) Everyone assumed that she was wearing shorts
underneath the shirt. If they only knew the truth!

One late night I was brain dead from studying for two upcoming exams. 
I decided to give my brain a rest and go for a drive.  Carla said she
wanted to come and asked me to swing the car by the apartment and pick
her up.  I assumed that she would use the extra few minutes that it
took me to retrieve the car to put something on her naked body. 
Wrong.  When she heard the car idling in front of our place, she
bounded out the door - stark naked!  She jumped in the car, I gunned
it and the night quickly swallowed us.  We laughed over the incident. 
I drove us around for almost an hour.  I asked Carla what it felt like
to be on a nighttime drive.  She replied that it was one of the most
erotic rushes she had ever experienced.

After our first night excursion with Carla leaving the house
completely naked, she grew bolder and seldom wore the shirt on our
night trips, preferring instead to go out in the nude.  If I had to
make a stop, she would have me park in the shadows and wait for me in
the car. One time I had to return to the university library to pick up
a couple of books for a research paper and Carla decided to tag along.
It was springtime and about 6:30.  Dusk was coming on soon, but it
hadn't fully arrived yet, let alone nighttime.  Still, Carla was the
first one out the door!  I about died, not from embarrassment, but
from excitement and a bit of fear.

"Jeeze, isn't it a bit early to be running around nude outside,
sweetheart?" I asked her, even as I felt the familiar excitement
brought on by seeing her expose herself so brazenly.

"It's never too early, lover."  Carla smiled and winked at me.

We raced to the car, which was parked very close to our front door -
but just far enough to be a challenge. Somehow made it without getting
caught, although I could hear neighbors' voices, booming stereos and
chattering TV sets all around us.

At the library parking lot, Carla had me leave our car far away from
the other vehicles. When I returned, she was breathing hard and
sitting low and cross-legged on her side of the car. I could tell she
was very aroused and a bit frightened.

"What's up?" I asked.

A bit glassy-eyed and fondling herself openly, she explained that a
campus security car had circled the parking lot twice. She didn't know
if the officers could see her or not in the gathering twilight, but
she'd grabbed one of my textbooks anyway, hunched down low, and
pretended read. They made a slow pass by our car but likely decided
she was just a tired student wearing an off-the-shoulder tube-top. If
they'd only bothered to scrutinize the car a little more closely! 
That incident sparked a wild sex session upon our return home.

Carla had always had acting aspirations and was frequently involved in
local theater.  While attending the university, she landed a number of
parts in the school's plays.  After Carla quit school, she
concentrated a lot of her time on her hedonistic lifestyle, but from
time to time, she would grow restless.  When the urge hit her, she
returned to the stage in a number of community theater productions. 
One of the young girls in the company - a cutie named Cheryl - took to
coming over in the afternoons and sunning with Carla. She was a sweet
girl with shoulder-length auburn hair and a dusting of very light
freckles scattered across her nose and upper cheeks.  Cheryl was
several years younger than Carla, who was in her early 20s at the
time. In no time at all, Cheryl became a female Timmy.  In other
words, she became a constant target of Carla's incessant exhibitionist
shows.

At first, my girlfriend wore a g-string bikini in front of Cheryl, but
one afternoon I got home from school to find the apartment empty. 
Then I stepped into the apartment's small backyard/patio and there was
sweet little Cheryl in her conservative swimsuit (a black two-piece
number cut quite modestly).  Lying next to Cheryl was Carla.  My
girlfriend wore nothing more than her birthday suit!

 I found it such a thrill to see Carla casually exposing herself to
somebody else so extensively - even if it was to a young girl. I think
Carla was a bit aroused too, because she asked me to rub lotion on her
back and didn't stop me when my rubbing got lower and lower and I
started massaging first her legs and then her buttocks. She just lay
there, smiling faintly, her eyes unreadable behind dark sunglasses.
Cheryl continued to read a horror paperback - or pretended to, because
every now and then she'd glance over at my ministrations and smile as
I poured more lotion onto Carla's upper thighs and butt and continue
to rub.

I reflected back to the days when I lived at home.  This was very
similar to my own nude exposures around the house with my mother as
audience.  Carla's exposures with Timmy had also been fun.  For one
thing, they had awakened me to the realization that I was at an ebb in
my own exhibitionist tendencies, preferring instead to get a showoff
thrill voyeuristically, via Carla's exhibitionism.  Still, the Timmy
play had gone too far, in my opinion.  It was too close to home, for
one thing.  What if Timmy had gone home one early evening and told his
uncle what the woman whom he had befriended like to wear - or not wear
- around the house, practically twenty-four hours a day.  This new
audience turned me on from the start.  For one thing, Cheryl didn't
live in our own apartment complex.  For another, Cheryl was a girl and
so was Carla.  Where was the harm in one girl showing herself to
another?  Watching Carla moan and spread her legs apart as I massaged
oil onto her already bronze skin began to make me hard.  And it
certainly didn't hurt that Cheryl was a gorgeous and very curvy girl.

Eventually, we all abandoned the patio and stepped inside. Carla
announced that she was going to use the main bathroom to take a rinse
and get the lotion off.  Cheryl and I made small talk, while sipping
sodas and standing in the kitchen.  A few minutes later, Carla came
sauntering into the kitchen, stark naked, combing out her brunette
hair.  She had taken her shower but remained nude.  When Cheryl left
to shower, Carla walked over to me.  I hugged her and smelled her
clean skin and shampooed her.
 
"What do you think?" she asked.

"I think you're getting more gorgeous by the minute."

She slapped my bicep with the comb.  "No, dummie!  What do you think
about my staying nude?"

"I think you're going to do what you want to, regardless of what I
think about it.  Besides, you seem to have found another built-in
audience all over again."

Carla nodded.  "For some reason, that's important to me.  I can't
believe I'm more an exhibitionist now than you ever were."

"I can.  The way you carried on with Tommy was scandalous."

My sweet girlfriend literally blushed.  "Don't remind me."  She
stepped back into my arms and draped her hands around the back of my
neck and peered up at me with sly eyes.  "I've been good for awhile
now, though, haven't I, baby?"

"Of course, sweetheart, but I could tell you were getting more and
more restless lately."

She nodded and kissed me once, twice, a third time.  "Even with the
porn and our nude drives and all the great sex.  I just felt like
showing off up close and personal to someone again.  I mean, someone
besides you.  You're my Number One audience.  But sometimes it's fun
to show to somebody else.  It's funny because you know I'm not into
girls, but when Cheryl came over today, I thought, fuck it, I'm not
gonna wear my suit and when we went outside, I walked out of our
bedroom totally nude and just stayed that way for awhile until we went
outside."

"How did she react?"

Carla smiled again.  "Cheryl's a real honey."

"A cutie, too."

"You bet.  Well, she giggled and blushed a bit but she didn't say
anything directly.  In fact, we had a perfectly normal conversation
sitting right over there, in the living room.  Cheryl sat on the couch
and I sat on the floor, right near her legs.  I told her I wanted to
do my nails before we headed outside.  She said fine.  We talked about
the play and our parts and stuff while I polished my toenails, then my
fingernails.  Then we talked about Cheryl's school coming up again in
another few weeks.  She's bummed summer's almost over.  I teased her
and told her I'd think of her in school, sweating over her studies,
while I lay on the couch and watched a porno.  Do you know she
actually blushed at that?"

"I'll bet."

"Really.  The sweetheart reminded me of Tommy.  Anyway, we talked
about the boys she liked and that kind of thing.  Girl talk, you know?
 Except that I was there --"  She pointed to the living room.  "--
sitting on the carpet, legs spread out and facing her."

"Nude?"

"Totally naked, baby."  We shared a laugh.

"And here she comes," I whispered into Carla's ear.

Cheryl came in and found me smooching at the kitchen counter with my
naked girlfriend. Carla announced that she had a bit of a sunburn and
didn't want to wear anything to irritate it.

"She's lying," I said, squeezing Carla's smooth brown buttocks
brazenly in front of Cheryl. "She just hates clothes."

"Not true," Carla complained. "I love clothes -- I just don't like
wearing them too often."

"No sweat," Cheryl said, laughing. "It's your house and I don't care
what you guys wear or don't wear."

Carla went over and gave Cheryl a hug. "Thanks, sweetie. Now let's go
rehearse our lines for awhile until Tony finishes the barbeque."

"I'm gonna barbeque?"

"You bet you are."

"Oh.  Okay."  Sounded good to me.  Beer, barbeque and babes!  

 From then on, Carla would dress only when she had more friends than
Cheryl over for rehearsals. If it were only Cheryl, Carla never again
bothered to put anything on, and she never hesitated to lose her
clothes the second she and Cheryl came in from rehearsals or shopping.
Though several years apart in age, Carla and Cheryl became good
friends and Cheryl started spending the night at our apartment.  I'll
bet she ended up seeing Carla more naked than clothed!

Carla, Cheryl and I had a lot of adventures together and the girls had
some fun on their own.  For example, one evening I got home and found
Carla and Cheryl convulsing with laughter on the living room floor.
Cheryl was in her oversized sleep shirt and Carla was in the buff. She
ran over and jumped onto me, her legs encircling my waist. She kissed
me deeply and I could tell two things right away: she had been
drinking more than the empty wine cooler bottle I spotted on the
coffee table, and she was very turned on. I squeezed her round butt
and started slipping my hands deeper between her cheeks, the tip of
one finger moving over her sphincter and probing.  Then I caught
myself.  "OOOPS!"

Cheryl grinned. "I didn't see anything. Besides, you have one CRAZY
girlfriend, Tony."

"Oh? You're just discovering this fact? What happened?"

The girls started giggling again.

"Carla flashed the pizza guy!"


IX
One of the things I discovered before too much time passed was that
this particular pizza-boy flashing incident was much more bold than
the first one Carla and I engaged in together.

Shortly after I got home on the night of the "pizza flashing" incident
with Cheryl, Carla said she was going to crash early. I could tell she
was pretty bombed, so I told Cheryl that I was going to go tuck her in
(more like tuck into her). As soon as we got to our bedroom, Carla and
I attacked each other. She stripped my shorts and T-shirt off in
lightning speed and we both fell nude on the bed. Pretty soon I had
her on all fours and was slamming into her from behind.  I worked her
body and coaxed her to tell me what I'd missed earlier in the evening.
 "Tell me," Sexy," I said, my voicing shaking with my thrusts.  "What
did you do? Tell me!" Carla only giggled between moans and groans and
I caught a glimpse of her smile-sneer in the dresser mirror. It didn't
take us long to explode.  We rode twin orgasms fueled by her flashing.
 The high was amazing - hers because she did it, mine because I knew
that she had done something wild and brazen, even if I didn't know the
specifics.

Carla fell into a dazed slumber.  I got up and freshened up a bit,
then slipped my shorts back on and went back to the living room. 
Cheryl was watching TV.  She was spending the night and seemed quite
comfortable.  She was in a hot pink oversized T-shirt that rode down
to almost mid-thigh.  She hugged a pillow close and had her legs
curled beneath her.  I caught a glimpse of her pretty feet sticking
out from the side of her shirt.  Then Cheryl looked over and smiled at
me.  Her brown-gold hair looked darker in the dim light and she looked
like a mischievous little girl more than a teenager.  I sat near her
and returned her smile and asked me to give me details about Carla's
antics earlier in the evening.

Cheryl said that Carla had been drinking since early afternoon. By the
time they'd decided to order a pizza a couple of hours ago, Carla said
she was tired of rehearsing for their upcoming play, so she put on
some rock music and made Cheryl dance with her. As      the time for
the pizza delivery drew closer, Cheryl followed my stark naked
girlfriend into the kitchen and asked her if she was going to put on
her T-shirt (Carla's usual stand-by item of clothing).

"What for?" Carla pouted.

"Well, `cause the pizza man will be coming soon."

"So?"

"Or I can go to the door."

"No, I'll take care of things, honey.  It's my apartment."

Carla then took a fresh wine cooler and made her way to the living
room where she shut off the stereo, flicked on the TV and sprawled
across the couch.

When the doorbell rang, Carla made as if she were jumping off the
couch, but Cheryl made her stay put and insisted on getting the door.
Carla reached for her wine and pointed to the coffee table, where
she'd thrown a twenty-dollar bill earlier.  Cheryl retrieved the money
and answered the door.  Cheryl said she gave the guy a couple of
dollars for a tip.  "I didn't have to, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I guess you can say that Carla gave the guy a tip of her own."

"What?"

"I mean, she gave him a visual tip."

Cheryl tried her best to shield the guy's eyes from the rest of the
house, but she was too short to hide much and our apartment's hallway
created a straight-shot view of the living room beyond.

"The pizza delivery boy got an eyeful of Carla lounging nude on the
couch - and then some."
"Seriously?"

Cheryl nodded.  She said she swung around just in time to watch Carla
take a long sip of wine, smile and wave to the delivery boy, then she
walked over brazenly and stood within inches of the delivery boy. 
"Thanks for bringing the food over, Sexy.  I'd give you a dollar or
two for your efforts, but -" At this point, she draped her arms around
the boy's neck."  "Don't you think this kind of thank-you tip is so
much better?"

The guy was so stunned that he couldn't get a word out, not even a
thank you.

Then Cheryl balanced the pizza box with one hand and gave Carla a tug
at the waist with the other and slammed the door shut on the poor boy.
 A second later, the two died laughing over Carla's bold behavior.

This was the first time that Carla showed herself off so brazenly to a
complete stranger. Prior to this occasion, only a select few friends
had seen her display her nude self. Needless to say, things got wilder
as the months rolled by.

Cheryl's presence in our apartment also marked my own return to the
world of showing off and exposure.


X
I don't know if it was my being constantly exposed to Carla's own
exhibitionism or if I simply got tired of being a voyeur, but in time,
my own dormant exhibitionist tendencies flared up.  I think that for a
long time I grew quite satisfied to obtain my exhibitionist thrills
vicariously, by watching Carla exhibiting herself.  I got off on the
idea of my girlfriend taking center stage and enjoying it so
immensely.  Some of you reading this story can surely relate to the
thrill you can get by watching a partner's own exhibitionist behavior.
 That's what I was feeling and I enjoyed it tremendously.  Perhaps it
was inevitable, however, that given my own previous antics, I was to
find myself on full display once again.

(Yes, I know:  this is Carla's story.  Rest assured that I won't stray
too far from it.  But I will share a few of my own antics here.  Those
of you who want to read more about my own exhibitionist history should
check out my previous story, "Flirting With Exhibitionism and
Incest.")

So what was my standard wardrobe around Cheryl during those weeks that
Carla was parading her nude body around her friend?  Shorts and a
t-shirt were what I usually wore around the house. Cheryl and Carla
grew closer by the week and Cheryl started spending the night at our
place, sometimes even on school nights. Because she and Carla did
theatre together, Cheryl's mom (who was divorced) didn't mind. I still
remember that on many a night, Cheryl's mother would drop off her
daughter.  Carla and I always made polite chitchat with her.  Carla
would usually be "clothed" in an oversized T-shirt at the time, but as
soon as Cheryl's mom stepped out the door, Carla would raise her arms
over her head and smile. It became a signal: either Cheryl or I would
walk over and pull Carla's shirt up and off and there she would stand,
totally nude. "NOW I'm ready for dinner," she'd usually say. "Or
anything!"

It's funny because you would think that after months of this behavior,
the excitement would begin to wane.  Not true.  If anything Carla's
showing off turned us on more and more.  I think Cheryl also sensed
the increasing air of eroticism in our household, though all of us
pretended that Carla's nudity was perfectly natural and just a desire
for her to be comfortable. In a sense, it was; Carla loved to spend as
much time as possible in the nude. On the other hand, I knew how to
read Carla very well (just as she could read me) and what I often saw
in her face as she had dinner, or rehearsed part of a play with
Cheryl, or sprawled out on the couch in her birthday suit, was not
just comfort but a mischievous and sensuous air about her.

Since Cheryl became such a fixture around the place, I grew more
comfortable with her presence and started wearing less and less around
her. Eventually, I took to wearing a T-shirt and a pair of loose
jogging shorts around her and nothing more. These shorts were really
too loose and too short and if I wasn't careful, I frequently
"spilled" out of them.

One night, while watching TV with Carla and Cheryl, I was particularly
engrossed in the film.  Carla was lying next to me on the couch, while
Cheryl was sprawled on the floor. When she turned around to talk to
Carla and me, I noticed her eyes drifting down and lingering.  When
she faced forward again, I inspected myself and saw why she was
staring my way.  It was obvious that I was completely exposed to her,
thanks to a wide opening in one leg of my shorts. Even in the soft
glow of the TV Cheryl must have been able to see quite a bit.  In
fact, because our young friend was at ground level and I was up on the
couch, her head was almost directly level with my exposed package. 
The more I thought about it, the more I thought I might be showing too
much.  I reached down to adjust my shorts but Carla's hand snaked out
and grabbed mine.

"Leave it," she whispered.

"But -"  Carla's eyes pleaded with me and I finally acquiesced.  The
longer I stayed exposed, the more turned on I became and the longer I
grew.  I noticed that Cheryl turned around for more exchanges with
Carla.  These exchanges continued throughout the night, with
increasing frequency.

Later, in our bedroom, Carla was extremely aroused and ordered me to
take her forcefully from behind. It didn't take us long to experience
violent yet pleasurable orgasms. I'll never forget Carla's words as we
lay there in the dark.

"Honey, I loved it when you showed off to Cheryl."  I saw new lust
smolder in her eyes. "You must do it again."

I played coy. "How come?"

"Because I need you to."

"You mean you want me to?"

Carla used one hand to cup me forcefully, the other to plow cupped
fingers into her pussy.  "No, I need to see something like that again.
I NEED you to do it."

I got my chance to fulfill Carla's wishes about a week later, during
the morning rush around our apartment. We all usually took off in
different directions after getting ready, but either Carla or I would
drop Cheryl off at her school on our way to our own job or school. Our
bedroom had its own bathroom, but Cheryl slept in the guest bedroom
and had to use the guest bathroom in the hallway. That bathroom lacked
a shower stall, so Cheryl had to use our bathroom to get ready for
school.  Cheryl spent the night so often, I came to know her routine,
including her wakeup time and showering time.  One morning, I was
feeling especially horny when I woke up and I wanted to do something
more than roll onto my side and slide into Carla's waiting wetness.  I
nudged Carla awake and asked her if she wanted me to go on display
again. She smiled slyly, eyes still closed, and nodded.  I told her to
peek from our bedroom door, then walked out to the kitchen.  Sure
enough, only a minute or two went by before Cheryl opened her bedroom
door, a fresh change of clothes in hand.  When Cheryl walked into the
kitchen seconds later, she found me pouring a glass of orange juice.
Pretty normal morning routine, only this time I was completely naked.
By sheer willpower, I had willed myself not to go hard, but now I felt
myself grow thicker and longer.

"Cheryl! I'm sorry!" I said. "I totally forgot you were here."

She went three shades of red and giggled hysterically.  "It's okay!
Wow!"

I put the juice back in the fridge and started walking toward the
bedroom. "Wow yourself! Wow what?"

"Wow -- my first naked man turns out to be my best girlfriend's guy!"

"Is that good or bad?" I asked, turning slightly for her benefit.

She gazed down at my member, which was still respectable, I guess, but
thickening quickly and slapping against my leg as I walked. "Very
good, Tony." As she made it to the bedroom door, she turned and
flashed me another one of her sunny smiles.  Then she winked and said,
"Don't be shy!"

And I wasn't. From then on, Cheryl got more peeks and there were more
"accidents" more often.

When I finally returned to the dark bedroom, I could hear the shower
running behind the closed bathroom door.  Then I looked at the bed and
there was Carla, reclining on her pillows, legs spread wide, and
masturbating furiously. I was surprised that she hadn't waited for me,
but her half-lidded eyes and sheen of light perspiration told me she
was close to bringing herself off. I moved her hand and slid myself,
rock hard now, into her.  She started cumming almost immediately and
kept doing so until I shot off deep inside her.  Then we heard the
shower turn off and decided to behave, before Cheryl stepped out of
the bathroom and catching us in the midst of a wild time.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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