Almost An Exhibitionist

by a2b

Catherine Jennings sat at her easel, dressed in a large, baggy, paint splattered T-shirt, her bare legs crossed as her pencil lightly brushed over the sheet of clean, crisp paper. She was sketching quickly, but not rushing, drawing a clear outline which she would fill in later.

Her model was her thirteen year old daughter, Cassandra, who was posed before her, dressed in a single piece, light blue leotard, that clung tightly to her slim, athletic body, with her dark brown hair trailing down to the middle of her back.

The teen had her back to her mother, her arms held above her head and her right leg raised to the side, the long limb straight and her tiny toes pointed. Only the sound of her mother's pencil and the whir of the air-conditioner filled the room.

"Are you OK?" asked Catherine, making finer details of the muscles in her daughter's legs and back, picking out the curves over her firm, young butt.

"How much longer?" her daughter asked back, her voice shaking slightly from the strain.

"I'm almost finished," said her mother, drawing in the visible cleft of her daughter's vulva.

Catherine had always enjoyed drawing. From a young age she had sketched and doodled her way through an entire rain forest of paper. When her daughter was born, she would sketch her regularly; while she slept in her crib, sitting in the bath, playing with her toys. Most parents had albums filled with photographs, but Catherine's was filled with drawings.

"OK," said Catherine, drawing a few more quick lines, "I'm done."

Cassandra slowly lowered her leg to the carpeted floor, the muscles in her left leg shaking slightly. She walked over to her mother's easel, partly to see the drawing, partly to stretch her legs.

"Wow," she said breathlessly, "That's really good."

Catherine had drawn in landscape, in order to fit in her daughter's outstretched leg. There was bright afternoon light shining through the blinds, and Catherine had used this when sketching out her outline, even adding in the shadow on the floor.

"Thanks, sweetie," said her mother, wrapping an arm around her daughter's skinny waist, "It'll look a lot better when it's painted."

The phone rang upstairs, and Catherine untangled herself from her daughter to go answer it. Cassandra continued to admire her mother's drawing, just as she had with so many others, and smirked a little at the detail of her vulva. But then, her mother had never shied away from drawing the more intimate parts of her daughter's anatomy.

She heard her mother stomp back downstairs, she had tugged on a pair of jeans and was in the process of tugging on a clean shirt.

"That was Debbie," she said with a sigh, "There's a problem at the gallery, and I need to go take care of it. Will you be OK on your own for an hour or so?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." said Cassandra, feeling a little burst of warmth pass over her.

"Cool, cool. Probably pick up a pizza on the way home, OK?"

"No meat."

"I know, I know."

Cassandra's mother kissed her on the forehead and made her way back upstairs. The teen brunette listened quietly to her mother's footsteps and the thud of the door closing. She felt herself shiver and went to the cabinet in the corner, switching on the digital radio that sat on top.

She turned it to her favourite R&B station, and walked towards the large windows. With a slightly trembling hand, Cassandra pulled the cord down and opened the blinds. She was greeted on the over side of the window by a mass of people walking past.

Her mother had often remarked on how their home must have been built by M.C. Esher. What would normally be considered the front door was actually around the back and up a flight of stairs. The first floor was pretty normal, with a den, kitchen, bathroom and two bedrooms. Downstairs was split into two rooms; a laundry/basement, and a large studio which Cassandra was currently occupying.

As a result, the large windows offered a view of the high street, with a steady stream of people walking by. The previous owner had solved this intrusive problem by fitting the windows with one-way glass. This basically meant that a person could look out without people looking in, while blocking out much of the noise.

However, the previous owner had not considered the possibility that a thirteen year old girl and her mother would eventually move in. A girl in the early stages of physical development, who had spent her life since birth being watched, admired and drawn.

Cassandra took a deep breath as she watched anonymous strangers walking by, blissfully unaware of what was on the over side of a pane of glass. She stepped back into the middle of the studio and stretched out her body. She could already feel herself getting aroused, but she pushed it away, letting the feeling build up inside.

Keeping beat with the deep rhythm coming form the radio, Cassandra moved through various gymnastics poses, focusing on the ones that caused her open her legs and expose her young body.

As her body flexed and bent, her sky coloured leotard, already slightly too small for her, dug tightly against her body, riding between her toned butt cheeks and cutting into her sex.

She spun around to face the window and let her legs split apart, her body slowly dropping to the floor. She let out a gasp when her swollen lips hit the carpet, her toes curling in on themselves.

Her body rocked back and forth, her suit loosening then tightening on her body, working its way deeper between the folds of her pussy. Cassandra hooked her fingers under the leotard's shoulders and pulled it down over her, pulling her arms free and baring her teen chest.

Her breasts were round and perky, her nipples stiffening in reaction to the sudden exposure to the cool air. She pinched them gently, and rolled them between her fingers before grabbing at the soft orbs, her hard nipples stabbing into her hands.

She rolled onto her back, her legs held up high above her, and rolled her suit off her body, kicking her long limbs to get the garment off.

Laying down, Cassandra let the cool air wash over her body, watching in perverted delight as the shadows from passers-by danced over her skin. She rolled onto her hands and knees, sticking her pert ass up at the window.

"What do you think?" she asked in a quiet, shaky voice.

She reached between her milky thighs and cupped her sex, feeling its heat against her fingers and the soft tickle of peachy fuzz in her palm. Instinctively, her fingers sought out her clit, and she moaned loudly when its large stiffness throbbed against her touch.

Casandra bit her lip as she rubbed herself, her body shuddering its way towards orgasm. Her knees bent and the soles of her feet pressed up hard against her butt as it rocked her body, her voice screaming as her hand was covered in sticky, warm wetness.

Panting for breath, the young teen rolled onto her back, pulling her hand from her pussy, a bead of girl cum connecting her fingers to her erect clit. She sucked her fingers clean with a moan and just lay back, enjoying the lingering feeling of her body.

Lazily, her free hand caressed one of her breasts and Cassandra smiled at the soft, marshmallow feel of it. Her other hand went back to her sex, lightly stroking her lips. As her strokes and squeezes became more heated, her legs spread open, her sex not far behind.

"Look at the naughty girl," she said, her voice louder than before, "Everyone look at the dirty girl."

Her legs were twitching and her body stiffened, lifting her jumping hips off the floor. To the young girl's surprise, her body was shaken by a second orgasm, her moans echoing off the walls, drowning out the music.

Cassandra lay breathless on the floor, her arms and legs streched out around her. With a audible grunt of effort, she raised herself to a sitting position, leaning back on her hands.

"H-hope," she tried to say, "Hope you a-all enjoyed the s-show..."

For a few minutes, she watched the nameless people walk by, not one of them so much as glancing at the window. Cassandra clambered to her feet, when all of a sudden, a woman came to a stop in the middle. It took the thirteen year old a second to realise that the woman was Miss Swan, her gymnastics teacher from school, and she was using the mirror to adjust her hair.

Cassandra watched as something caught her teacher's attention and she pulled a phone out of her handbag, and started chatting to whoever was on the line. The young brunette stepped closer to the window, as her teacher continued to chat away.

Cassandra had never seen her out of school before, and she was shocked to see what she wore. Miss Swan had short, wavy blond hair, and was dressed in a thin pale blouse, her dark breasts clearly visible underneath, a short and tight black skirt, fishnet stockings and black high heels.

The horny teen placed a hand against the glass, close to her teacher's eye line. Miss Swan carried on talking, clearly not noticing her student's hand.

Feeling braver, Cassandra stepped closer, bringing her body mere inches away from the window. When she saw no reaction from her teacher, the brunette pushed her body against the cold glass, gasping at the sensation.

Miss Swan stood where she was, listening to the voice on the line, oblivious to her, in her own words, number one student rubbing her naked, sweat covered body up and down the glass right in front of her face.

"Look Miss Swan..." breathed Cassandra, bucking her hips forcefully against the window.

The girl rubbed her swollen clit against the smooth surface, now smeared with her juices.

"Look at what I'm doing..."

Another explosive orgasm built up in side her, quickly taking the exhausted teen over the edge.

"Look at meeeee..."

Cassandra squealed and shrieked as her pussy squirted, splashing her inner wetness on the window.

Her knees buckled and she slid down onto the floor, every muscle in her young body twitching underneath her skin, before she curled into a ball, her pussy still pumping out her cum.

She lay there for over five minutes, her lungs gulping in air. Eventually, she was able to straighten out her body. Gingerly, she got to her feet, and let one hand come in contact with her sex. She brought it back instantly, as she felt an electric shock course through her, threatening to drop her to the floor.

Glancing out the window, she saw with disappointment that her teacher was gone. Cassandra plucked her leotard off the floor, turned off the radio and headed up stairs, her mind focused entirely on sleep.

She dropped her leotard on her bedroom floor and clambered in to bed, her eyes closing heavily.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it wouldn't be long before her mother came home, but the teen needed to sleep, and this wasn't the first time she had crashed out like this, tired after a period of 'practice'.

As Cassandra drifted off, her mind filled with thoughts would have happened if Miss Swan had been able to see her.

***

Rose Ann Swan made her way down the busy high street, her mind ablaze with thoughts and her cheeks red. She kept her head down, but couldn't help but glance when she was passed someone walking the other way, and the looks on his or her face when they saw her.

The light blouse she wore was so thin, she may as well have not been wearing it her breasts were so visible, and the skirt was so tight, it must have been obvious to everyone that she wasn't wearing any underwear. With every step she could feel her handbag slapping at her ass.

Eventually, the twenty four year old gymnastics teacher came to a large mirrored window. She looked at her reflection, and adjusted a rogue lock of blond hair, when her phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered nervously.

"Are you there yet?" asked a female voice.

"Yes," she said, glancing round at the river of people as it flowed past, "But what do you want me to do?"

"Just stand there, facing the mirror, pretend to talk on the phone. Give her something to look at."

Rose did as she was told, feeling anxious and nervous at the same time. She was about to ask what she was supposed to do, when she heard quiet, and loud at the same time, moans coming from the other side of the glass.

"What was that?" she asked, "Catherine? Hello?"

There was no answer, either from the phone or any of the passers-by, so Rose put her phone back in her pocket. She turned back the way she came and with a quick glance at the window, hurried home.

The End