I am shy by nature but the sun’s caress on my body has had an intoxicating effect. It began when I removed a wet bikini top by the pool. It was uncomfortable and damp. My large breasts were free from constraints, available for all to see. Slut replaced shy instantly. Oh, other females were also topless, but this was my first time. My first time of being daring.
That night, I went to the nearby taverna to collect some home-baked bread. It was a traditional building sitting back from a quiet road, facing the sea. The blue chairs and blue and white striped table clothed tables were positioned under a canopy of twisted vines. The air was filled with the scent of herbs, the atmosphere shady and secluded. While I waited, I had a glass of chilled, local wine. I hadn't planned to stay. Only three elderly, local Greek men were in. They were playing Tavli, backgammon.
I wore a sheer, white top with thin shoe shoestring straps, brief black shorts, and nothing else. I knew my breasts were visible, the outline and curve, the free, swinging movement, my erect, dark nipples straining against the fine, transparent material, my large areola begging for attention. I was accutely aware that they had forgotten their game and were enjoying the unexpected tit show. I loved it.
They called me over. They wanted a closer look. I sashayed over, my tits jiggling and dancing with each step. Their eyes feasted on my bouncing breasts, then openly travelled downwards, the tight shorts emphasised my pussy, my very visible camel toe, where a damp patch was rapidly spreading. Were they wondering if I was a natural blonde? They complimented my eyes, while they mentally undressed me. They did not try to hide their enjoyment and pleasure. Hands moved to crotches. Theirs, not mine.
My bread was ready. Tomorrow night? They asked.
Andreas, the owner had joined them. He too was openly drooling. This was all new to me. I had dressed hurriedly without any thought of how revealing my outfit was. I had felt horny after my foray into topless sunbathing and had dressed accordingly. The thought I would be seen, and the effect my outfit would create had not really occurred to me. But is that true? Before going topless and the erotic feelings that overpowered me, would I have dressed so brazenly, so provocatively? Honestly? No.
Naturally, I returned the following evening. The number had grown from three to five. Again I ordered bread, but this time I was invited to join the men and a glass of local white was placed in front of me. This time I wore a really pretty, demure blue dress. Why? I hear you ask. What happened to the slut, the exhibitionist? The pretty dress is not demure when most of it is unbuttoned, which I did before I went in. I wore nothing underneath. My breasts were exposed, not fully, but with a hint of areola and an erect nipple showing. The lower part was unbuttoned too. Soon the question of whether I was a natural blonde would be answered. As I perched on the high stool, my dress opened wide to reveal a clear view of my naked lower body and my waxed, smooth pussy. No growth to hide the inviting glistening, view.
I pretended to be flustered and attempted to close the dress, but only succeeded in pulling it up higher, much, much higher, indecently higher. Somehow the top half slipped too and my naked 36DD tits spilt out. I stood to attempt to rearrange my dress, ensuring that it accidentally snagged and rode up completely. Some men got a good look at my pussy, the others my curvy buttocks. I took my time adjusting the dress. I was blushing coyly and whispering. “How did that happen? I am so sorry. “
They loved the show and the pretence, and so did I. I pretended it was so warm, I had unbuttoned my dress, not realising it was so revealing. “How could I have forgotten to wear underwear?” All nonsense of course, but part of the fun. Once again, my order was called.
On this visit, these men had seen my smooth pussy, my boobs and perky nipples, my butt and my smile. Pretty impressive for a “virgin” to public display! Would their wives have put on such a show? Definitely not! Their pussies would be well hidden behind a bush of dark hair and sensible cotton underwear. Their tits would be firmly harnessed in place with a touch-me-not bra. Again the cry of Tomorrow night?
Of course, I would be back. This was like a strong heady wine, drugging me, pulling me in deeper and deeper. Craving more each time, thirsting for them to see me totally exposed, naked!
A little voice in my head said, “You are a slut, embrace it, enjoy it. Be daring, be bold, tease, tantalize and thrill! Live life, take the risks, the rewards and the punishment!”
Andreas grinned at me as he handed over the warm bread, wrapped in a spotless white cloth. “No charge, my lady.” It may well have been my imagination, but was there an emphasis on the word lady? I was shocked at my new persona. Ok, most females secretly want men to see them naked and lust after them. Very few actually do anything about it. I had, and I loved it and wanted to go further. Needed to go further.
Another thought crept in unbidden. What if they stripped me, they took off my clothes? Oh, not just a dress, that would be too quick. I would wear lacy knickers, a push-up bra and the ultimate, suspenders and stockings. They could take turns at removing my clothes, but I would insist for modesty’s sake that the suspender belt and stockings stayed on. After all, I had been referred to as lady. What if I went further?
What would it be like to let them not only see but touch? To have my breasts fondled, groped, kissed. My nipples tweaked, sucked and pinched. To have my legs parted wide, rough fingers hungrily thrust into my inviting wet pussy, probing tongues exploring every inch of the soft folds, seeking the ultimate arousal point, all in full view, watching and wanting and waiting, probably wanking, horny, randy, aroused strangers intent on plunder and satisfaction.
Then the ultimate, being bent over and my curvy, full butt spanked, my cheeks turning pink, or red, for being a tease, a harlot, a whore? I was a spanking virgin. Being publicly spanked, my buttocks bare and exposed, had long been a desire of mine. My knickers being roughly pulled down to expose me to a group of men gagging to see my pussy, always made me wet and desperate. Those same pink cheeks parted and fingered and explored greedily. Both holes? Hmmm, I was an anal virgin too, but the thought would not leave.
I also knew that being a lot younger, Andreas would have a smartphone, and he would film it all.
Would my semi-naked body be used as a pin-up poster? Or would a fully X-rated explicit picture be displayed? Of course not. But perhaps away from disapproving wives' eyes, a selection would be pinned in the depths of the gents' toilets. Perhaps showing some action, a trophy wall with captions?
Farsa Fingering the Brit Slut’s cunt
Skorpos Spanking the Brit Slut’s arse,
(50 shades of pink.)
Georgios Grabbing the Brit Slut’s tits
Oskar Opening the Brit Slut’s legs
You get the idea, not exactly classy, but erotic as Fuck!
Was I ready for that? Was it all in my head? Or had I accomplished enough? Would I stop? Should I stop? Would they stop? Was a gangbang the inevitable and ultimate outcome? Was I playing with fire?
I knew tomorrow night the group would have grown. The lure of more customers in his taverna spending money would have ensured that Andreas spread the word about me. The English girl ; all Brits are considered to be English. The one who eagerly shows her breasts and more, much more. The thought of strangers stripping me naked, exploring my willing body was so erotic. The spanking was really another level. Where had that come from? I've already confessed to that. I'd buried that kink very deeply. I'm sure it could be arranged and administered. All I had to do was go.
Shy was totally gone to be replaced by Exhibitionist…
Maybe more?
A Slut? Unquestionably
A Tease? Definitely
A whore?
It was a definite possibility!
How far would I decide to go?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be continued???
