I originally posted ‘Showing herself’ on 30 November 2010, which was actually the beginning days of this website, even though it officially started on 26 January 2010. I am in the (slow) process of cleaning up my site, and there is a lot I want to rewrite, such as this post. When it was originally posted, I wrote about ‘Rebel’ and in the third person, when talking about myself. Back then I was still trying to find my voice, and wanted to stay very anonymous, something I have let go of over the years. It’s time to revisit those posts, polish them up and post them again.
I have always been into sex, even though the first time I actually engaged in intercourse was when I was fifteen. In the year or two before that I was part of a group of friends – boys and girls – in the neighborhood, where the ages ranged from anything between thirteen and twenty. We liked to do things together, such as go to the drive-in movies close by and as pedestrians, not in a car. We also roamed the streets or sat around talking, the way only teenagers could.
Sundays at the sports club
For some or other reason a sports club in our neighborhood was always closed on Sundays, but the gate was never locked. We used to go there and play ‘spin the bottle’. We spun the bottle, and had to kiss whoever the bottle pointed at when it stopped, except when it as the same sex. This was an innocent game, but as we got older and bolder, we added touch to the result of spinning the bottle. I liked these games, especially the more daring ones.
Showing the neighbor
Our neighbors had two boys – one was my younger than me, the other a couple of years older, and as much plagued by hormones as I was. Many times as I sat on the steps of our veranda, the older of the two boys stood at the fence between our yards and we chatted. I don’t know how it happened, but it became a game between us that I would wear a dress or a skirt and always sit with it pulled up enough for him to see my knickers. It excited both of us, and for weeks, maybe months nothing more than this happened.
Not for long that though, as eventually both of us wanted more. Not sex, but I wanted to show more, and he wanted to see more. Even though I was out in the open, no one from inside either of the houses could see us.
I would spread my legs a bit, reach around and under my outer thigh and touched my crotch. Even though we knew no one could see us, we were always on the look out. Or rather, he was. I kept my eyes on him and the moment he nodded, I would quickly pull my knickers aside and show him my pussy. It was never uncovered for long, as I was always afraid someone might round the corner of either of the houses.
It never came to sex or anything more than this between us, mainly because I got involved with someone else.
The nude beach
Being the rebel I believed I was, I sort of liked to ‘shock’ people, but maybe I just thought I did, because of the conservative community where I grew up. However, looking back many of those moments weren’t as shocking after all, and when they were, they were fueled either by mischief or horniness.
The first time I ever went to the nude beach (Llandudno, Cape Town), I went with an older friend. Most people came there as couples, but some singles went there too, and not always for the purest of reasons. Sometimes they only visited the nude beaches for the views, and to get off.
We had found our spot on the beach, and weren’t there for long when a man or less my age picked a spot not far from where we were on the beach. Now of course the beach is a free place and you can lie wherever you want, and I might not even have noticed this man, had my companion not pointed out that he seemed to have ulterior motives. You see, his towel was positioned in such a way, that all he had to do was look straight ahead to look right between my legs.
And he did. He wore a cap on his head and had his arm in front of his face. That left a narrow gap and his eyes were just barely visible, fixed on me. Of course I didn’t see this, but from behind his sunglasses my companion watched him, and in a whispering tone told me what the man was doing.
My next move came from pure mischief. I changed position a bit, and in the process spread my legs some more, giving the young man a better view of my pussy. It took him about two minutes to jump up and walk down to the beach with his towel. He dropped his towel close to the surf and went into the cold water. Apparently he needed this to literally cool off.
I watched him for a while, looked at other people on the beach, but then turned around and lay down on my towel again. I was just relaxing again when my companion told me the man was approaching us again. Unbelievably, he put his towel down in exactly the same spot as before. The prying started again. Once more I spread my legs, trying to make him uncomfortable again, but this time he didn’t jump up. Maybe he couldn’t!
Apparently the young man realized we weren’t going to ask him to leave. He stopped prying, but openly kept his eyes on every move I made. By now my legs were spread as far as I could not to make it too obvious. And, to be honest, it was exciting to know a stranger was watching me like that.
My next move probably didn’t come from mischief, but from being horny. With my legs already spread, I slowly pushed myself up on hands and knees. But not only that. I deliberately and extravagantly pushed my buttocks back and felt my lips parting. I knew he could see more than just my pussy lips, that the inner pink of my sex must be visible too. It excited me. My nipples hardened, and I am sure the man could see that too when I turned around to sit down, facing the man.
I pretended to casually look at the young man and saw him squirming on his towel. The thought that I had caused his discomfort (I am sure he had an erection and his squirming was because of that) excited me even more. It took him quite a while to finally be get up and leave, and all that time I had my legs slightly spread, and felt my wetness trickle down to the towel.
There’s just something about being naked and being watched that is so damn exciting.
© Rebel’s Notes