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 ï>¿Confessions Of A Fledgling Flasher by M.  Millswan

   Part Two

   As a precocious and excitable young girl who had only just experienced
her first taste of forbidden fruit, it seemed like an eternity might pass
before I could find a way to get myself another opportunity to fulfill my
fantasies with Mr.  Taylor.  After returning home from my weekend sleepover
with my friend, Kaylee, as you can imagine I absolutely could not get my
experience in the kitchen with Mr.  Taylor out of my mind.  No matter what
I was doing, going to school or even eating dinner with my parents, and
especially while trying to fall asleep at night, I couldn't help but find
myself falling back into the memory and reliving the thrill of every moment
over and over again.  That I had somehow found the courage and been so bold
and so brazen as to bend over in front of my friend's dad with my nightie
riding up over my hips and give him a clear view of my bare bottom was
absolutely breathtaking to me.  But that Mr.  Taylor had understood it for
the invitation it was, come up from behind me, placed his hands on my hips
and actually pushed the bulge in the front of his clean, white tennis
shorts up into my soaking-wet pussy was more exciting than anything I had
ever imagined I would experience in my entire life.  If Kaylee hadn't come
out of her bedroom when she did and almost walked in on us, I feel
confident Mr.  Taylor would have pulled down his shorts and plunged himself
all the way up inside me.  Even though I couldn't be one hundred percent
sure my friend's dad would have actually taken our clandestine little
encounter that far, I could not get the
'what-if-Kaylee-hadn't-almost-caught us' fantasy from playing out in my
mind.  In my imagination, I could see it unfold.  The warm sunlight
streaming in through the kitchen's sliding glass doors, and me bent over in
front of the refrigerator with my flimsy, little nightie up over my hips
and my bare bottom enticing Mr.  Taylor to come closer.  Even if,
technically, I still had on my nightie when Mr.  Taylor moved me over to
the kitchen table I felt as though I was completely naked.  Leaning over
with my hands holding onto the edge of the kitchen table, I made sure to
keep my bare feet spread wide apart on the floor so I could enjoy that
delicious feeling of being so open and vulnerable up between my legs.  It
was beyond exciting to have Mr.  Taylor behind me, cupping and fondling my
breasts with those strong yet gentle hands of his while pushing that
rock-hard bulge in the front of his shorts deeper and deeper and deeper up
into the cleft between my legs.  If this isn't a young girl's O...M...G! 
moment, then what is?

   I must admit, from an early age I've always had perhaps a little too
much interest in sex, so it's probably not difficult to believe me when I
confess, whether I'm in the bathtub or in my bed, it's ridiculously easy
for me to work myself up into an explosive orgasm.  My slick and silky area
secret spot where the tops of my lips come together and all around the
sides of my little, pink rosebud (as I love to call it) is extremely
sensitive to touch, especially when I'm aroused.  With my memory of Mr. 
Taylor pressing that bulge of his up into me so vivid in my mind, while
sitting at the dinner table with my parents and just squeezing my thighs
tightly together, I experienced a nearly catastrophic meltdown between my
legs.  Red-faced and shaking, I had to tell my worried parents I'd choked
on a bite of food!

   Emboldened by what I'd dared to do with Kaylee's dad, yet unsatisfied
that I hadn't had enough time to find out just how far he would have gone
with me, the fire he'd left burning inside me caused me to focus for now,
on finding more adventurous and exciting new ways to fulfill my
exhibitionism fantasies out in public.  Of course, the key to all the fun
remained acting innocent and entirely unaware.  While riding on the bus or
sitting in class, I had grown quite adept at making it seem as though I had
no idea that my skirt was a bit too short and my legs spread a bit too far
apart.  Or that my bra was too loose and my blouse a bit too low cut as I
bent over to pick up my books in the library or my lunch tray in the
cafeteria.  When I would witness the effect flashing my body had on the
boys I was treating to a peek, playing out these little peekaboo games
provided me with such an incredible thrill, I have to confess, it had grown
into an addiction.

   Yet my encounter with Mr.  Gibson had left me so ravenous I now craved
much, much more than peekaboo games.  Whether I was soaking in a bubble
bath or lying atop my bed wearing the very same nightie I'd worn to tease
Mr.  Taylor, while imagining countless scenarios in which I gave myself
over to him, it was just too easy to bring myself to orgasm over and over
again.  Sometimes, just imagining Mr.  Taylor behind me pulling down his
shorts and holding himself with his hand to position the tip to push up
inside me was enough to leaving me quivering, and I didn't even need to use
my fingers!  Since I had no idea of when or even if I would have another
opportunity to be alone with Mr.  Taylor, I began to formulate a plan to
take my exhibitionism to an even more daring level.  To accomplish this, I
would need to put my body out on display in an open and public place. 
While using all the powers of my imagination to devise a plan, envisioning
different scenarios provided a fun distraction.  Yet never able to get Mr.
Taylor too far out of my mind, I knew he had been preparing to leave to
play tennis when I walked in on him drinking coffee in his kitchen that
Saturday morning.  Thinking I might try to stage my
'innocent-yet-naughty-girl' display where he goes to play tennis, I called
Kaylee and told her a little white lie, saying that my dad was interested
in joining a tennis club and asked her where her dad plays.  Unfortunately,
Kaylee told me the tennis club where her dad plays on Saturday mornings is
too far away for me to go without a car.  Since I didn't drive yet, I was
disappointing to learn I couldn't show myself off to Mr.  Taylor where he
goes to play tennis.  Yet I found the idea of putting my body out on
display for more mature men Mr.  Taylor's age very exciting.  I don't know
why, maybe it had something to do with Mr.  Taylor's confidence and
experience, but arousing the interest of older and more mature men was so
exciting to me, I really wasn't all that interested in showing off my body
to boys my own age anymore.

   Never one to give up on an idea because of one setback, I recalled when
I was in middle school, my dad liked to play golf.  Though he hadn't played
since I was in high school, the country club where he had been a member was
close enough for me to ride there on my bicycle.  The very next Saturday I
took a little ride there, and after looking around and seeing so many
handsome older men relaxing outside the club house in the patio area, it
was so very exciting to realize this place would work perfectly.  Over the
next week, I poured my passion into my plan, putting the pieces together
and practicing everything over and over again in my bedroom until I was
confident it would work.

   That Saturday morning as I rode my bike to the country club I was so
excited and my heart was thumping wildly in my chest.  It was a beautiful
spring day.  When I rode through the parking lot there were so many cars
there I knew the patio area would surely have quite a few gentlemen
enjoying drinks after a round of golf or while waiting to play.  First
thing I did after going inside was to walk through the patio area and make
sure I didn't recognize anyone who knew me or my parents.  Next, I made a
trip to the ladies room to prepare.  Then immediately heading to the snack
bar, I bought a hamburger plate and a drink.  With all the butterflies of
anticipation swarming in my tummy I wasn't the least bit hungry, but
carrying something to occupy my hands was part of my plan.  As I walked up
to the door leading out to the patio area carrying my tray, I caught sight
of my own reflection in the glass in front of me.  Usually, I wear my
blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, but to appear as young and innocent
as possible, this morning I had it up in pigtails.  I had also chosen a
light pink button down blouse, the same as those worn by the girls who
attend a nearby church school.  Of course, under my blouse I hadn't worn a
bra, and anything but church-like, I had left more buttons undone than
schoolgirl modesty could possibly allow.  While getting ready in a stall
the ladies room, I also employed a trick I'd devised for today's adventure
based upon a wet t-shirt contest I'd seen in a spring break movie.  Using a
little, plastic spray bottle I'd put into my purse for exactly this
purpose, I gently sprayed a light mist of water evenly across the front of
my blouse.  Not enough to make the fabric wet, but enough to make it
slightly moist so my blouse would cling a little more tightly to the curves
of my breasts and stick closely to my nipples.

   Seeing myself in the glass as I walked up to the door and approached the
point of no return filled me with that delicious blend of apprehension and
anticipation I had to come to relish almost as much as the thrill I receive
when I actually have my body out on display.  With my hair in pigtails and
my schoolgirl-ish pink blouse, I looked so young and innocent.  Yet wearing
my shorty, red and blue plaid wrap around skirt and with the outlines of my
nipples slightly visible through the light, pink fabric and each tip
standing up so stiff and pert, I didn't see myself as simply a sweet, young
girl.  I was saucy and sexy.

   It was so excited actually to be going through with my plan!  Adding to
my thrill were the sensations I could feel from the fabric of my thin,
see-through panties stretched so tightly up between my lips.  Not only were
my panties thin and skimpy, but while in the ladies room preparing to put
my plan into action, I had tugged the waistband up over my hips so the
almost sheer fabric wedged up tightly between my little lips.  While I was
in the stall, looking down and checking closely, it only added to my
excitement to see the fabric had stretched up between my lips and not only
disappeared between them completely, but plumped them up quite nicely. 
With my blond pubic hair and these virtually invisible panties, I felt sure
that to anyone seeing me front on, it would appear almost as if I had on no
panties at all!  In back, there was nothing more concealing than a thong
running up between my cheeks, so both sides of my bottom would be
completely bare.  With every step I took after leaving the ladies room, the
silky cloth slipped up and down between my lips and over my little, pink
rosebud, causing it to swell and tingle with the most delightful and almost
breathtaking ripples of pure pleasure.

   While holding my tray and walking towards the door, the sensations
between my legs along with the knowledge of what I was about to do had my
heart pounding and my excitement surging off the scale.  My palms were
clammy with anticipation as holding the tray with both hands, I used my
elbow to push open the door, and by keeping my hip close to the handle as
it began to close, the slightly oversized belt loop I'd sewn onto my skirt
slipped over the handle and caught.

   The skirt I'd chosen to wear for this adventure had a Velcro closure on
the side instead of a zipper.  I'd also modified the skirt by sewing on a
slightly oversized belt loop.  When I felt the loop catch on the handle, I
hesitated for only a second as I marshaled my courage.  Then I took an
extra big step outside, and with a loud tearing sound the Velcro parted
leaving my skirt hanging on the door handle behind me.  As the door swung
closed, I took another step out into the open air, and then to attract the
attention of the men sitting all around me, I cried out as if panic.  The
moment all those eyes turned towards me, all at once I realized, here I am,
I'm standing out in the open air on the patio with nothing more covering me
below my waist than my skimpiest pair of panties.

   Playing the role of the sweet and innocent young girl who finds herself
caught in an embarrassing situation beyond her control, I stood frozen with
fright.  Yet actually, I was so excited and my heart was racing so fast, I
wasn't frozen, I was on fire.  It was beyond exciting when I stole a quick
glance down and saw for myself that the lips of my pussy were openly
exposed to the eager eyes of all those men staring straight at me.  In that
instant, time seemed to go into slow motion as I continued to play my part
of being so panicked I simply had no idea what to do.

   At a table directly in front of me and only a few feet away sat a group
of at least five or six men all dressed in their golf clothes.  A couple of
them were much older, but most of them were around the same age as Mr. 
Taylor.  Acting bewildered and taking a hesitant step closer towards their
table as if I was going to ask for help, when I stopped only a few feet
away I made sure to keep my feet set wide apart.  Though I was almost
beside myself with excitement, I had the presence of mind to lift my tray
even higher to make absolutely sure each one of them had a clear and
uninhibited view between my legs.  Standing before them and looking into
the faces of these men while they all looked at me, even those seated at
other tables who had been sitting with their backs to me had turned around
in their seats, and not a single one had his eyes anywhere higher than my
waist.

   I recall experiencing such an incredible rush when the thought came over
me, Here I am!  I'm actually doing this!

   Each one of these men who were lucky enough to be right in front of me
were seeing a close up, and almost eye level view of my little lips, all
swollen pink and plumped up by the thin strip of fabric tucked so tightly
up between them.  Continuing to feign helpless innocence, I turned around
as though I was looking for my lost skirt.  For a few delicious seconds I
stood with my back to the men at the table, soaking in the excitement as I
let them all enjoy a long and luscious look at my bare bottom.  I even bent
over, looking down around on the patio as though it might have fallen off.
Of course, unable to locate my skirt even though I knew exactly where it
was, I finally turned back around to face the man sitting closest to me and
with a full front on view of my pussy.  Still making no move whatsoever to
cover myself because my hands were busy holding my tray up above my waist,
when I focused on the gentleman sitting directly in front of me, I
experienced a flood of pure molten excitement when I saw he had his eyes
riveted between my legs.

   I don't know how long I stood out there in the open-air letting every
man on the patio get a really good look at me from the front and behind. 
Perhaps in reality it was only a few seconds, but with my adrenaline
pumping and my heart racing, the excitement of the moment seemed to stretch
into pure exhibitionist bliss.  Yet my plan was still not quite yet
complete.  Suddenly fumbling and then dropping my tray, I stumbled forward.
The man right in front of me stayed in his seat, but he did reach out with
both hands as if to catch me.  Stopping just out of reach, and now with
nothing in my hands, I was treating each of the men at that table to a
close up look at me appearing naked from the waist down.

   "Oh no!" Using a frightened and trembling voice I'd worked on in
anticipation of this moment, I looked not just at the man directly in front
of me who was staring at my pussy, but to all of them.  Acting as if I was
so frightened I was on the verge of breaking out into tears, I pleaded,
"I've lost my skirt.  I don't know where it is, and I don't know what to
do!"

   Since I had stumbled closer, the man right in front of me still had
never looked up and never taken his eyes off my pussy.  He seemed lost in a
daze, because it was the one to his left who got up and said, "Here, let me
help you." Then he hurried around from his chair and knelt down to help
pick up my tray.

   In that instant, I had the presence of mind to turn so that now he was
only inches away and at eye level with my plumped up little lips.  He'd
picked up the tray, but unable to keep from staring at my pussy he fumbled
it and actually ending up sending it skittering off to the side.  At this
moment, my thill was beyond anything I had imagined possible.  If the man
kneeling before me he had been so bold, he could have reached around and
grabbed me by my bare butt and buried his face between my legs.  I don't
know what I would have done if he had thought to do that, but even if he'd
only given me a quick, little kiss I was so excited I would surely have had
an orgasm right out there in front of everyone.  As it was, I could have
stood out there letting them all look at me forever, but the gentleman
sitting off to my right pointed at the door behind me and called out,
"Young lady, your skirt, I think it got caught on the door."

   Trying my best to appear bewildered, even though I was more intensely
aware than I had ever been in my life, I blinked back at him as if I didn't
understand English.  Then looking from one face to another, finally I let
it dawn on me that I was in an embarrassing situation and should do
something.  Turning and hurrying back to the door, I made a pretense of
fumbling with the handle so I could give all those men another long look at
my bare bottom.  Through the glass, I could see one of the waitresses who
serves the patio area walking towards the door.  Only a few steps away she
stopped, looking at my skirt hanging from the handle rather than at me
standing outside.  As I saw her reach for my skirt, experiencing a sudden
surge of adrenaline fueled excitement, the thought flashed in my mind What
if she takes it?  I might have to turn around, walk back over to those
gentlemen at their table, stand before them and calmly ask if one of them
would be willing to help me.  To have the excuse to do such a thing would
have been the sweetest icing on any cake ever.

   Through the glass, I saw the waitress slip the belt loop off the handle,
and then appear confused as she held up my skirt trying to figure out
exactly what this piece of cloth was.  Yet when she looked past it and
finally saw me standing outside appearing entirely bare from the waist
down, witnessing the realization of my situation come over her face
provided me with yet another entirely unexpected thrill.  I had never
flashed another female before, and seeing her see my pussy and then seeing
the panic come over her, I imagined she must be thinking OMG, what if it
was me standing out there without my skirt!

   Carrying her order pad in one hand and my skirt in the other, I stepped
quickly backwards as she came through the door.  Totally unplanned, the
back of my heel tripped on the tray.  Being athletic and running hurtles on
the track team; it would have been easy for me to catch myself and stay on
my feet.  Yet thinking quickly and seizing the moment, I allowed my knees
to buckle, and then fell back plopping down on my bottom.  Acting as though
I had actually lost all control, I let my shoulders continue all the way
back so I was lying on the patio with everyone looking down at me.  It was
sheer audacity to do it, but as I lay there, slowly I let first my right
knee and then my left knee fall to the sides.  Because the thin strip of
fabric ran so tightly up between my lips, I was allowing all these men
looking down at me to see every bit of me up between my legs as clearly and
as openly exposed as if I had on no panties at all.

   With my pink, schoolgirl blouse and my hair in girlish pigtails, as I
lay there acting dazed from the fall, actually a whirlwind was raging in my
mind.  Lying back with my knees spread wide and all those men looking
between my legs was beyond thrilling.  I felt as though I could actually
feel their eyes touching upon me everywhere they looked.

   Something only I was aware of was that when I had plopped down, pulled
by the thong in back, the fabric in front had wedged up even more tightly
between my lips and was pressing down upon the tip of my swollen pink
rosebud like the tip of a finger.  Teetering on the verge of a molten
meltdown between my legs, the excitement of all those eyes on me along with
the throbbing within my little rosebud was simply too much.  My breath
caught in my throat as if I was at the top of a rollercoaster and hanging
there on the verge of plunging down.  Then all at once, an almost
soul-shattering orgasm erupted from deep down within my vagina.  Now truly
lost in a daze, and with every muscle between my legs quivering, spasming,
and causing a moan to slip from my lips, the next thing I realized, more
men than I could count were standing over me.

   All these men were standing around me, yet not a single one of them had
made any move whatsoever to help me up, and not a one of them was looking
at my face.  Content to play the innocent victim and lay back for as long
as I could, I reveled in every second of this unplanned opportunity to bare
as much of me as possible for as long as possible.  Though I was acting
dazed from my fall, suddenly I experienced an overwhelming urge to see what
they were seeing, and lifting my head, I stole a quick glance down.  I
could see my naval and then lower down the lips of my pussy appearing as
openly exposed as if I had on no panties at all.  I knew I should really
close my legs and try to get to my feet, but the orgasm had left my knees
rubbery and weak.  As well, it was simply too much fun to continue to play
the part of a dazed young girl who's caught up in a situation beyond her
control and is entirely unaware of just how exposed and vulnerable she is.

   Yet no good thing can last forever.  Suddenly there was the waitress
with my skirt in her hand standing over me, and then one gentleman on each
side reached down, took my hands and helped me to my feet.  Accepting my
skirt, I grudgingly rewrapped it around my waist and sealed the Velcro
closed.  I know my cheeks were positively scarlet and my ears on fire. 
Surely all those around me thought it was from my embarrassment, never
suspecting it was from the organism I had just experienced.

   With so many people asking me if I was okay, I mumbled to everyone that
I was fine.  Two distinguished looking gentlemen, one on either side of me
pressed business cards into my hands, each telling me he was a lawyer, and
if I wanted to sue I should call.  The waitress gave them each a dirty
look, assured them I wasn't hurt, and then put her arm around my shoulder
and quickly ushered me back inside.  Turning me around so I faced her, she
placed her hands on my shoulders and then asked me point blank, "Where are
your parents, hon?" She definitely appeared shocked when I told her, "My
parents aren't here.  I'm not a child.  I'm over eighteen and here all on
my own."

   At first she didn't seem to believe me, but once she felt satisfied I
was okay, when she let me go I walked straight back to the ladies room.  I
wasn't hurt or in need of a bathroom break.  What I needed was a different
kind of relief.  Once I was back inside the same stall I had used to
prepare, I locked the door, and it only took me a few seconds of gently
sliding the tips of my fingers around the tip of swollen little rosebud to
bring myself to another soul-shaking orgasm.  If there were any women or
girls in the ladies room when I erupted, I can only imagine what they must
have thought was going on inside that stall!

   With this success behind me, I was now bound and determined not to allow
my clandestine, little encounter with Mr.  Taylor to be the end of it.

   As it turned out, my next opportunity to be alone with Mr.  Taylor
didn't happen with another sleep over with Kaylee, and it wasn't very long
after my little exhibitionist escapade at the golf club.  A few days before
spring break, Kaylee called me, saying that she and her mom were taking a
trip to visit an aunt who had a beach house, and she would like to know if
I would like to come along.  Then she added, "There are only three
bedrooms, so if you don't mind sleeping in the same bed with me, you and I
would have to share a room."

   Not just from her invitation to share a bed but from the sound of
Kaylee's voice, immediately I suspected she might finally be ready for us
to pick back up where the two of us had left off during our middle school
sleepovers.  To once again lie in bed with Kaylee and kiss and pet each
other as we'd done when we were just young girls, and perhaps now to have
the opportunity to explore some more womanly intimacies with each other was
quite tempting.  Yet now that I was aware Kaylee and her mother would be
out-of-town for an entire week, and Mr.  Taylor would be home alone, I
reminded her I had made the track team.  Then I told her a little white
lie, saying I had to get ready for an upcoming track meet and had practices
scheduled throughout spring break.

   From the moment I hung up I began trying to devise a plan to visit Mr.
Taylor.  Thinking about my little, white lie I'd told Kaylee about having
to go to track practice, I had a scathingly brilliant idea.  The very next
day after Kaylee and her mom left, I called Kaylee's house knowing full
well she wasn't there.  As all good girls are taught to do, the moment Mr.
Taylor answered, I introduced myself, offering a bright and innocent,
"Hello, Mr.  Taylor.  This is Jenny Lynn.  I'm not sure if you remember me.
But I had a sleepover with Kaylee a few weeks ago."

   Standing there in our own kitchen and holding the phone close to my
mouth to make sure no one could overhear, my heart was pounding up in my
throat, my palms were cold and clammy, and my toes were tingly as there
came a bit of pause.  While planning my call, I had hoped Mr.  Taylor would
respond with an excited, 'Are you kidding, Jenny Lynn!  All I've been doing
is thinking about you!'

   Instead, he replied with a very grownup sounding, "I'm sorry, Jenny
Lynn. If you are calling for Kaylee, she and her mom have gone on a trip.
Didn't she tell you?"

   "Oh, yes, yes she did, Mr.  Taylor." I held my breath as the thrill of
the knowledge of what I was about to try to do flushed through me.  "I know
this is presumptuous ...  but ...  but I was wondering ...  I was wondering
if ...  if ...  if I could maybe come over some time and use some of the
equipment in your gym."

   There I'd done it.  That first hard part was behind me.  Trying to keep
my voice from quivering and hoping to sound as sweet and innocent as
possible, I added, "I saw what a great set up you have the last time I
visited." Then ever so sweetly.  "I'm sure you remember my last visit?  We
almost enjoyed some orange juice together.  But we didn't quite have enough
time to find it in the refrigerator."

   There came an even longer stretch of silence in which I found myself
again holding my breath as the seconds ticked by.  I was terrified he might
come back with something even more grown up and mature such as, 'I really
am sorry, Jenny Lynn, but I think things got just a little out-of-hand.  I
don't know what came over me, and I hope you'll please forgive me and just
forget about it.'

   It seemed like forever before he broke his silence and responded with,
"Yes, Jenny Lynn, I definitely remember." He paused again, then lowered his
voice as if someone might overhear.  "You really wouldn't think I could
forget, could you?"

   Emboldened, I pressed forward.  "I'm so glad.  You have no idea how
often I've thought about that morning since then.  But, as I was saying, I
was really impressed with your work out room.  You are in such awesome
shape that I thought if I could exercise with the same equipment you use it
might help me prepare for a track meet I have coming up.  If you'd be so
kind as to allow me to come over," it was my turn to pause as I worked up
my courage and hoped to sound as innocent and naive as possible, "I think
if I spent some time with your equipment, it would do wonders for my body."

   Mr.  Taylor immediately came back with, "Why thank you, Jenny Lynn,
that's such a very flattering thing for you to say.  Of course you can come
over any time you'd like when I'm home.  In fact, how soon would you like
to come?"

   'How soon would you like to come.' The possibility of a hidden meaning
behind those words stirred in my mind.

   Lost in envisioning one of my fantasies, before I could answer, he
added, "How about tomorrow, Jenny Lynn?  Would tomorrow evening be okay? 
I'll be home from work around six and you could stop by any time after
seven."

   I was so excited.  While holding the phone clenched to my ear, I
actually rose up on my tiptoes.  "Sure, Mr.  Taylor, I'll look forward to
seeing you then.  Oh, and Mr.  Taylor," learning to tease with my voice as
well as my body I added as coyly as I could, "I was wondering if you might
have a little time to please show me how to properly handle your equipment?
Some of your machines look very complicated.  Our coach has stressed how
important it is to train our bodies correctly to avoid any injury, and your
expertise with showing me the ins and outs of handling your equipment
should help me get every inch of my body into the best shape possible."

   "Of course, Jenny Lynn." Hopefully, enjoying playing our little cat and
mouse game of shared innocence as much as I was, Mr.  Taylor chuckled
warmly then added, "Helping you to get every inch of your body into shape
would be my pleasure."

   I was thrilled!  Absolutely thrilled beyond compare!  That night, even
though I normally prefer to sleep naked, I wore the nightie I had worn for
Mr.  Taylor.  Beneath the gauzy fabric, my nipples were as hard and stiff
as I could ever remember.  While imagining so many of my favorite scenarios
unfolding with Mr.  Taylor, even the tiniest touches around my clitoris
were enough to send me tumbling over the edge, and I came again and again
before finally I was able to fall asleep.  Once, I even moaned so loudly,
my mom, who was watching television out in the den with my father, came and
knocked at my bedroom door and asked me if I was alright.

   Waiting for the day to drag slowly by was pure torture.  Since I was
well aware Mr.  Taylor was a married man, I couldn't be sure if he would
want to pick up where we left off.  Yet having that little bit of doubt
only served to heighten the tension as well as my excitement.  Kaylee had
confided to me that her parents had slept in separate bedrooms for as long
as she could remember, and though Mrs.  Taylor was usually nice to me, she
always seemed aloof and formal, perhaps what some people would call cold.
Even as young and inexperienced as I was, I felt pretty sure she and Mr. 
Taylor didn't have much of a sex life.  Which was probably why a man like
Mr.  Taylor would be willing to risk having a little fun on the side with a
friend of daughter.

   Flashing and teasing is all about the game; feigning innocence even
while doing the naughtiest of things is what makes it all so thrilling and
fulfilling.  Though I definitely planned to enjoy a little flashing with
Mr. Taylor when I returned to his house, one of my fieriest fantasies was
one in which the moment I stepped through his door, without any hesitation
at all, Mr.  Taylor wraps me in his arms and kisses me deeply.  Then he
slowly undresses me piece by piece, leaving my clothes piled up right there
on the floor.  When he has me completely naked, he leads me by my hand over
to the couch in the living room.  Without either of us ever having said a
single word with our lips, but communicating our desire for each other with
our eyes, I lay down on the couch, and looking up at him in anticipation, I
spread my legs for him as wide as I possibly can.  Even wider than when I
lay on the patio with my knees apart letting all those men see everything
between my legs.  Mr.  Taylor is standing so close to me; I reach out and
pull down his tennis shorts.  He's so hard and stiff it makes my mouth
water.  Never taking his eyes off me, he gets on his knees between my legs,
just looking down at me lying naked on the couch.  Even though I'm all wet
and dying to feel him inside me, the exhibitionist in me is only too eager
to allow him to feast his eyes on my naked body if that's what he wants. 
Then, as he lays down atop me, I wrap my arms about his shoulders and kiss
him deeply as he slides himself all the way up inside me.

   This was a thrilling fantasy.  Yet somehow, I hoped Mr.  Taylor would be
willing to play my naughty little game with me, and rather than immediately
start off where we'd left off in the kitchen, we would act as though none
of that had happened at all.  I had never bent over in front of the
refrigerator and showed him my bare bottom.  He had never lifted up my
nightie, cupped my breasts, then bent me over the kitchen table and rubbed
that stiff bulge filling his shorts up and down between the spread of my
legs.  I would simply be a friend of his daughter who had come over for a
little exercise, and then little by little, hint by hint, step by step, we
would take it from there.

   When evening finally arrived, I packed my gym bag with my purple thong
leotard, blue shorts, sweat socks and my tennis shoes.  I could have worn
my workout clothes underneath my street clothes, but the idea of having the
opportunity to undress completely was so exciting to me.  My plan was to
wear just the leotard, but I brought the shorts in case Mr.  Taylor did
something entirely unexpected and objected when he saw my bare bottom so
openly exposed by the leotard's thin strip of thong in back.

   Yet after what had happened between us in the kitchen, I was pretty sure
he wouldn't object, but I had already realized, even at this young age, a
great deal of the pleasure and erotic thrill was is in being ready for
anything and never taking anyone or anything for granted.  The anticipation
is so much richer when I truly don't know how things are going to end up. I
had already fantasized about being with him so many times and in so many
ways; even just the knowledge that I was finally going to attempt to put
one of those scenarios into play was ever so exciting.

   The day before I had told my mom I was going to use Mr.  Taylor's
basement gym, and she had complimented me for being so dedicated to a goal
and for wanting to get into the best shape possible.  It was ever so
fortunate she had no idea as to what my goal truly was, and just how
dedicated I was to achieving that end.

   Before leaving home, I put on my skirt from my patio adventure over my
transparent panties, which, thankfully, my mom still had no idea I had. 
Not wanting to raise even the slightest suspicions as to my true motives, I
also wore my pink schoolgirl blouse.  For a bra, I chose one I knew would
reveal a lot of my breasts if I had an opportunity to bend over.

   Promptly at seven, I was standing with my gym bag in front of Mr. 
Taylor's door.  My mouth was dry and my finger was all trembly as I reached
out and rang the doorbell.  Mr.  Taylor must have been waiting at the door,
because it opened almost immediately.

   Rising up on my tiptoes, I wanted to look bright and cheerful, though
inwardly, I was positively churning.  "Good evening, Mr.  Taylor!" When he
smiled, I smiled right back.  "Thank you so much for letting me come over
to enjoy your equipment."

   I wasn't all-too familiar with the term double-entendre at the time, but
Mr.  Taylor obviously knew one when he heard one.  He laughed and
graciously replied, "You're entirely welcome.  A delightful young lady like
yourself, Jenny Lynn, you can enjoy my equipment any time you have the
desire to do so."

   I was so anxious and eager to get started, I forgot all about polite
formality, stepping inside and asking, "Is there some place I can change
into my gym stuff?"

   "Sure." Mr.  Taylor closed the door behind me.  "There's a bathroom just
off from the exercise room.  You can change in there."

   With him leading the way, we went downstairs to the finished basement,
which doubled as his exercise room.  I was very impressed.  He had all four
walls lined with mirrors, which made a very large room seem positively
enormous.

   Mr.  Taylor had almost as much equipment as the fitness center I
sometimes used.  Not as many of each kind, of course, but as much variety.
There was a Universal Fitness Station, an In Flight Multi Lat Arm Machine,
a Maximus Abdominal/Back Machine, a Tunturi Rower, a Matrix Upright Bike, a
Noramco Super Treadmill, several racks of free weights and multiple padded
floor mats in various places.  Almost all of this equipment had model
numbers, but it was all I could do to memorize the brand names so I could
tell my mom what kind of equipment I had used.

   Being no expert, I really didn't know how good the equipment was, but it
certainly looked professional and expensive.  Kaylee had told me that her
dad spent a lot on his exercise equipment, and I could believe her.  It
certainly looked first rate.

   I have to admit, it was a little awkward, us being alone and all, and of
course, both of us knowing full well what had happened in the kitchen just
over a month ago.  Yet, I did find my voice, and I told Mr.  Taylor how
impressed I was with his exercise room, and then added, "I doubt I'll ever
be able to learn how to use it all."

   "Nonsense, Jenny Lynn." He was standing back a few feet away and looking
at me with the most wonderfully pleased expression.  "You're a very
intelligent young lady.  I'll show you exactly how to use each piece of
equipment and even stay with you while you get used to it to be sure you've
got it down pat before we move on to the next piece of equipment.  You
don't mind my doing this, do you?  You won't feel put off if I stick around
to see how you do?"

   Mind?  Mind?  I was as thrilled as I was terrified.  The entire time
since he'd greeted me at the door, every bit of every memory from the time
my strap had first fallen down and I'd first exposed my breast to him, to
his gloriously hard cock pressing up into my naked pussy in the kitchen, it
was all tumbling wildly through my mind.  And the fact we were all so
caught up in such polite social pretense, as though none of what had
occurred between us before had ever happened, this only caused my
excitement about what I hoped might happen to feel positively electric.

   "No, I don't mind at all, Mr.  Taylor." Putting down my gym bag on the
floor, I somehow managed to close off those memories and maintain an even
voice.  "Actually, I would really appreciate your watching me.  I'm sure
with your help; I'll be able to do every exercise to my best benefit."

   There ensued a bit of an awkward silence, while we both searched for
something more to say.

   "Alright, then!" Mr.  Taylor came to life, clapping his hands.  "Why
don't you go on and get changed?  The bathroom is right over there."

   I looked to where Mr.  Taylor was pointing.  There were two swinging
doors, styled as if in an old time Western saloon.  The top of the doors
were at my shoulders and the bottom just above my knees.  The doors weren't
solid but were fashioned from slats positioned at slightly canted angles.
Right now, they hung slightly open in the middle, allowing me to see right
through to the sink, and the toilet.

   Mr.  Taylor obviously noticed the look of slight consternation on my
face.  "I hope using the bathroom as changing room is okay?  But, you're
certainly welcome to use any of the bathrooms upstairs if you'd really
rather."

   I gulped slightly, "No.  This will be fine." Looking to the doors, then
back to Mr.  Taylor, I gave him a quick smile.  "See you in a couple of
minutes."

   Conveniently forgetting to pick up my gym bag, I walked through the
swinging doors and into the bathroom.  Even though I'm an exhibitionist,
sometimes I can be a little funny about bathrooms.  I had never seen anyone
put swinging doors on a bathroom before.  Though I had no plan to use the
toilet, I couldn't imagine anyone actually, well, you know, going to the
bathroom in a major way in a bathroom with doors like these.  Fortunately,
I didn't have to worry about any of that.  All I needed was to change
clothes.

   'Well,' I thought.  'Here you are.  This is what you wanted.  It's now
or never.'

   Purposely, and hoping Mr.  Taylor would remain outside watching, not
only did I not close the doors, but I made sure to leave a big gap between
them when I stepped through.  Inside the changing room there was a mirror
behind the sink.  The toilet was to the right away from the swinging doors,
and the shower was on the left side of the sink.  I closed the lid of the
toilet to have a convenient surface on which to put my clothes.  Then I
turned toward the mirror up above the sink and simply pulled my blouse up
and over my head.  I thought I detected the sound of a slight intake of
breath from out in the exercise room, and when I moved slightly to my
right, over my shoulder I could see Mr.  Taylor watching me in the mirror.
Realizing that if I could see his reflection in the mirror, Mr.  Taylor
could see mine it was so exciting to be able to fall into my role of a
sweet and innocent young girl who is completely unaware she is revealing
her body to a secret admirer.  My thrill of the moment growing stronger
every second, I quickly reached behind me, unhooked my bra and took it off.
When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I could see my nipples were
already beginning to grow stiff and stand up.  Light pink like my lips and
surrounded by slightly darker areolas about the size of a quarter, in this
light I thought my nipples looked so feminine and pretty.  I didn't know if
my breasts had finished growing yet, but I hoped that if I could manipulate
things as I had planned, Mr.  Taylor would soon have not just his hands but
his lips upon every inch of what I fitted into my 35C cup bra.

   Usually when I first remove my bra, as a habit I'll massage my breasts.
Yet being aware Mr.  Taylor could see my reflection in the mirror, even
though I was purposely allowing him to peek at me, I felt strangely
self-conscious about massaging myself.  Deciding it would be best to get
back to business, I removed my shoes and socks, then next I took off my
skirt and tossed it on the sink.  I tried to think of a reason to turn and
step up to the gap between the swinging doors to allow Mr.  Taylor to see
how totally transparent my panties were, but it was just too exciting to
pull them down, step out of them and feel myself without a stitch of
clothes on my body.  Now, I did turn towards the doors.  Seeing Mr.  Taylor
leaning up against one of the machines and looking my way caused my heart
to catch up in my throat.  I considered just swinging the doors wide open
and letting him see me fully naked from the front, or even more exciting,
to walk straight out to him as naked as could be.  Yet I knew it would be
so much better if we were to take things in steps.  So I moved up and stood
so that my left hip and most of my left breast would be visible between the
gap in the doors.

   "Oh, Mr.  Taylor." It felt simply too delicious to be completely naked
and call out to him.  "I'm sorry, but I forgot to bring my gym bag in here
with me.  Would you please bring it over to me?"

   "Of course." I could see him look around.  "Oh, there it is.  Hang on.
I'll bring it right over."

   From where I stood only partially concealed between the two little
doors, I focused on Mr.  Taylor as he walked over to retrieve my bag.  I
wished I could say I had been clever enough to deliberately forget to bring
my bag into the bathroom with me, but the truth was I was so excited at the
thought of getting undressed in a place I knew he could watch me, I had
simply forgotten.

   As Mr.  Taylor walked up, by moving over behind the other door, I
flashed him a quick peek of me passing between the open gap.  Teasing and
flashing like this is just so exciting to me, it was quickly becoming what
I live for.  Now, I had the right side of my body, including most of my
right breast and hip and leg entirely exposed in the gap between the doors.
As he came walking up carrying my bag, every step of the way he was staring
straight at me, though not my eyes.  The nearer he came, the more the
intensity of my excitement increased.  I stood there trying not to tremble
as he walked right up to me, standing only a few inches away with me
completely naked and nothing more than these little doors separating us.

   Mr.  Taylor held out the bag.  "Here you go, Jenny Lynn."

   Opening the door more than just a little bit wider, when I reached out,
my hand momentarily brushed across his.  With the way my heart was
pounding, it was so very hard to keep my voice from trembling, but somehow
I managed to say, "Thanks, Mr.  Taylor!  I'll only be another minute or
two."

   He took a step back, drinking me in through the gap in the doors.  "No
hurry, Jenny Lynn.  We have all evening.  Take your time."

   I saw Mr.  Taylor's eyes fall and knew he was looking at pussy, which I
must say was rapidly becoming quite moist.  Making no effort to close the
swinging doors, I turned around to afford him a view of my bare butt
through the gap.  In the mirror in front of me I could see myself, and over
my shoulder I could see Mr.  Taylor taking me in from behind.  In my
wildest fantasies never had I imagined that using a mirror to reveal my
body would be an exhibitionist's dream come true.  This is exactly the kind
of thing that makes being an exhibitionist so exciting to me.  Yet being a
young girl, when I'm extremely aroused, not only do my nipples grow stiff,
but my secret spot up between my legs gets very, very wet.  Aware of how
wet I was becoming, this is when a thought hit me.  'What if I my pussy
gets so wet, I make a big wet spot on my leotard?  How embarrassing would
that be?'

   Yet on the other hand, I had to ask myself if I really thought such a
thing as a wet spot between the legs of my leotard would actually bother
Mr. Taylor?  I seriously had to doubt that he would be offended by knowing
being with him was making me so hot and wet.

   Falling back into my role of an innocent girl simply interested in
working out, I opened my gym bag, took out my workout clothes and prepared
to put on my leotard.  Then I suddenly reconsidered, thinking better of it
as I wanted to have this bit of fun last a little longer and flash him from
between the doors and with the mirror for as long as I could.  So I took
out my sweat socks and tennis shoes.  I then moved over to the toilet, and
sat down sideways on the closed lid.  Through the gap I had left open
between the doors, I could see Mr.  Taylor had stepped back away from the
doors and moved to his left to have a better angle to see me.  The gap
wasn't wide enough for him to see all of me.  I could have reached out and
moved the door on the right a little more open, but playing a little
peekaboo with Mr.  Taylor and just giving him glimpses of me as I was
getting dressed was simply too exciting for an exhibitionist like me to
pass up.

   Crossing my ankle up over my knee, I took my time leisurely putting on
one sock and then the other.  The way in which I was sitting with my leg
crossed, I was intensely aware of my innermost lips spreading apart, as
they always do when I'm so wet and I open my legs.  That feeling of having
the most intimate parts of my femininity so openly exposed to the air
filled me with such a wild thrill, it was everything I could do to keep
from running a finger up between my lips and give my little, pink rosebud
just a tickle.  Perhaps the reason I didn't was I knew if I did, I probably
wouldn't be able to stop.

   Once I had my socks on, I stood back up and grudgingly slipped into my
leotard.  I would have so much preferred to have just suddenly pranced out
there naked, not a single thing on my body except for my little shorty
socks, and called out, "Okay, Mr.  Taylor, I'm ready!  How do I look?"

   Though I flashed on the idea of doing just that, I simply couldn't, not
yet anyway.  Everything in its own time.  Yet, the game was definitely
afoot, and I was reveling in enjoying every thrilling and naughty moment of
it.  I turned around so that my back was to the swinging doors and so that
Mr.  Taylor could see my leotard was a thong and my entire bottom would be
bare while I worked out.  My leotard was definitely the kind a modest young
girl would have worn with tights.  Yet since I was anything but modest, the
thong strap was very thin and disappeared completely up into the crevice
between both of my cheeks.  Which in itself felt so exciting.  Taking my
tennis shoes out of my bag last, I then turned back around, sat down and
put them on.  Now that I was ready to step out, first I had to take in a
deep breath to try to calm my nerves.  My heart was racing as though I was
walking out on stage for some huge audition.  Getting up, I drew in a deep
breath, and then stepped out through the swinging doors and into the
exercise room.

   Mr.  Taylor, standing back with his arms crossed and watching my every
move, smiled broadly.  "That's a very pretty leotard, Jenny Lynn.  It
really becomes you."

   "Thank you, Mr.  Taylor." Wanting to show how pleased I was by his
compliment, I tucked my hands behind the small of my back and swiveled at
the hips exactly as would an excited young girl.  "It's new, and this is
the first time I've worn it."

   Suddenly thinking of the little girl in the Coppertone ads, I turned
slightly to give Mr.  Taylor a quick flash of how exposed my left hip and
my cheek were.  Then peering back at him over my shoulder exactly as the
girl did in the ad, ever so coyly I smiled at him as we made eye contact.
"I hope this will be okay."

   "I think it suits you just fine, Jenny Lynn." His eager eyes and broad
grin were as flattering as they were sincere.  There came a pause while we
both stood looking at each other, then suddenly Mr.  Taylor came to life
and walked over to the treadmill.  "Why don't we get you started with a
warm up?  I always do ten minutes or so on the treadmill and then another
ten minutes on the stationary bike or the rower before using the other
equipment."

   "Okay, whatever you say, Mr.  Taylor." Thinking quickly, I added, "I'm
all yours."

   It was so thrilling to act as though our encounter in his kitchen never
happened and to to be playing our game of me just being a girl interested
in a work out, and Mr.  Taylor's only interest was to help a friend of his
daughter.  Almost skipping like an excited little girl as I walked, it was
so exciting to pass so near to him while being aware of the sensation of
the air upon the skin of my openly exposed bottom.  When I stepped up to
the treadmill, I made sure to keep my back to him as I focused on the
machine.  "I've used some treadmills before but never one quite like this.
It looks really nice, though."

   In strolling around past Mr.  Taylor, because I could see him in a
mirror I knew he turned as I passed him by so as to get a better and more
up close look at my bare bottom.  While I pretended to concentrate on the
treadmill, reflected in another mirror, I could see his face.  He appeared
so transfixed by the sight of my bare bottom; it caused me to wonder how
much of me had he seen through the changing room doors while I was putting
on my leotard.  Perhaps he hadn't seen as much as I would have liked
because it definitely appeared as if hadn't been aware that my entire
bottom would be essentially naked.  Rather than disappoint me, I positively
tingled with excitement as I stood next to the treadmill waiting for him to
make the next move.

   Obviously, Mr.  Taylor had nerves of steel, as he acted so entirely
nonchalant in stepping up and wasting no time in instructing me how to use
the treadmill.  The pretense that he really was here only to help me
exercise was simply delicious and only served to make me that much more
excited.  It was as if I wasn't this eager and overly excited young girl
with her naked bottom exposed and all alone with him in his basement.  It
was as though we were in the gym by the mall.  While I did my best to try
to pay attention, as a reflex I brought my hands around to my back. 
Feeling the bare skin of my own bottom against my hands was so distracting
as he explained the various settings to me, I really had quite a bit of
difficulty paying attention.  There were so many different programs I could
choose, and Mr.  Taylor took his time showing me what each one was.

   Finally though, he moved aside, swung out his arm as an invitation to
try it out, and I stepped up and onto the belt.  I started out on low and
gradually increased the speed until I was jogging and finally, running as
hard as I could.  All the while as my breasts were bouncing and I was
breathing harder and harder, Mr.  Taylor moved around, watching me from
different angles.  Yet from where I was on the treadmill, I could see at
times he was also looking past me to my reflection in the mirror behind me.
Having these mirrors all around were simply just too much fun.  In the
mirror in front of me, I could see a reflection of myself in the mirror
behind me with my blonde ponytail bobbing.  Unfortunately, due to another
piece of equipment blocking my view I couldn't see my own butt, but I could
feel the muscles of my bare bottom flexing with effort of my legs.  From
the front and the back, I felt confident I was giving Mr.  Taylor a pretty
good show.

   Because I wanted to have time to try most of the other equipment, I
didn't do a full ten minutes.  I most definitely got my pulse to match the
speed of my heart, which had not settled down one bit since even before I
had first taken off my clothes.

   By the time I got off the treadmill I had worked up quite a sweat.  The
moisture was seeping through the leotard and turning it dark below my
breasts and my waist.  Though I've always been self-conscious about
sweating, Mr.  Taylor didn't appear to notice.  Or if he did, he didn't
care.  With Mr.  Taylor leading the way, we went over to the stationary
bike, which I told him I preferred to the rower.  However, in retrospect,
the rower could have offered some rather interesting possibilities.

   This bike was the most complicated I had ever seen.  It had a large
screen, which changed with each program selection.  As Mr.  Taylor began
explaining, whether he was conscious of it or not, he placed his hand on
the small of my back.  Just that first, gentle little touch had such a
powerful effect on me I couldn't help but shiver.  I was hoping he might
actually go ahead, slide his hand down and cup my bare bottom.  Yet no such
luck.

   Once he finished with his instructions, I put one foot on a pedal and
climbed up onto the bike.  As I did so, I felt his hand slip down from the
small of my back and down onto my bare bottom.  I think I gasped, but kept
looking ahead.  It was so delicious to feel him let his fingers linger over
the crease between my bare cheeks for just a moment before lifting his hand
away.

   That next touch was exactly what I needed, a subtle little signal that
things were in deed well on their way.  With that ice broken, my pussy had
grown so wet, I was sure it must be adding a lot of its own moisture to the
sweat I could feel seeping through the crotch of my leotard.

   I spent several minutes on the bike, during which I became significantly
sweatier.  Now, the whole top of the leotard had turned dark with sweat. 
The wetness against my nipples in the air-conditioned room had caused them
to turn into tight little rocks standing up so hard and stiff under the
fabric.  I know it's a strange confession for an exhibitionist, but I've
always felt self-conscious about my "headlights' shining out.  With how
much I enjoy flashing, this has to be some weird psychological thing.  At
school and other places I was never too modest to flash my breasts, but for
some reason, I was always self-conscious when my nipples would grow really
stiff and stand up under my clothes.  This flash of anxiety did strike me
as odd, considering Mr.  Taylor had seen me veritably topless out in his
den, and in his kitchen he had even groped and fondled my bare breasts and
nipples.  So what could cause this flush of modest self-consciousness? 
Though I had no idea, nevertheless every bit of nervousness and angst was
simply more fuel for my fire, which was driving me forward headlong and
causing me to savor every second of each deliciously thrilling next step.

   Not lingering too long on this bike, when I began to step down, Mr. 
Taylor was such a gentleman in the way he immediately came over, took my
hand, helped me down, and then guided me over to the next machine.  In the
mirror to my left, as we walked I could see him looking at my bottom as he
remained behind me with his hand on the small of my back just above my bare
butt.  The sensation of this relatively minor contact was once again,
exactly what I needed.

   I didn't really realize it then, but the fact that we were going slow;
the fact we hadn't just given in to our excitement and immediately resumed
where we had left off in the kitchen made what we were doing all that much
more exciting all over again.  Would we or wouldn't we?  How far would we
go?  I was only just learning the anticipation of sex can be such an
important factor in making the actual sex, when it does happen, so much
more exciting.

   To tell the truth, I wasn't sure exactly how to get up onto this new
bike he guided me to.  Yet Mr.  Taylor proved only too eager to help me
position myself properly.  As I began to step up, he used both his hands to
cup each cheek of my sweaty, young bottom.  Of course, I reacted as if he
was doing nothing more forward than patting me on the shoulder.  This game
we were both enmeshed in was so delightful.  Mr.  Taylor was doing such a
believable job of pretending his hands upon my naked butt weren't there to
enjoy touching me.  He was only doing this to show me how to use the bike
properly.  And I, in my role of sweet, young innocent was pretending I
wasn't even aware that he had both his hands on my bare bottom, much less
that I was reveling in the sexual thrill of feeling his hands on me.

   As enjoyable as this was, I finally had to sit down on the saddle.  Yet
eager to keep moving on, after spending a few minutes familiarizing myself
with the settings while he stood beside me telling me what to do, I asked
him about the recumbent bike to our left.

   Though there was no missing the flush to his cheeks and the heat in his
eyes, Mr.  Taylor responded with such an amazingly calm, "Sure, Jenny Lynn,
you can try out any piece of equipment you like."

   Again being such a gentleman as he helped me step down, when he assisted
me with stepping up onto this bike, much to my delight, we repeated the
entirely provocative process of him cupping my cheeks all over again.  Of
course, since he had agreed to help me learn how to use his equipment
properly, Mr.  Taylor had no choice but to demonstrate his responsible
concern for my welfare by making absolutely sure I moved my body into
exactly the right position.  This time, he allowed his hands to linger on
my bare bottom while he took his time explaining the reasons why it was so
important for me to be positioned just so.  As I listened, I was more than
happy to oblige him, standing up with my feet on the pedals and my elbows
on the handlebars, simply looking out across the room at our reflection in
the mirror, and eating up every second of it.

   It was all going so well.  I was so excited.  And I was so ready for it
when he took the next step I so desperately craved by not simply touching
my bottom with his palms, but in actually caressing both cheeks as he
explained the benefits of proper posture while exercising.  Oh, how I
reveled in the sensations of having him touch me like this.  All I wanted
at that particular moment in my life was more and more.  I craved his touch
so much, even when he said I was positioned properly, I still found an
excuse to move.  Stepping back down off the machine, I then climbed back
on. Yet I made sure not to position myself in exactly the right way.

   "Oh dear." I tried to sound as perplexed and innocent as I could.  "I'm
sure this isn't right.  I'm so sorry, Mr.  Taylor.  Could you please show
me the correct position again?  I'll really try to remember it this time."

   He grinned so sweetly; he must have had the patience of a saint, even if
all I wanted were the hands of a devil.  "Of course, Jenny Lynn.  Here, let
me help you.  Remember what I told you about the danger of cramping if your
torso is positioned at a bad angle to the pedals." He actually patted me on
the bottom.  "Just be still, and we'll take our time and get it right this
time."

   I was so into the game I hoped I wasn't being too subtle and indeed he
was getting the message I was trying to convey.  I mean, after all, I had
never, ever done anything quite like this before.  Being older and more
experienced, perhaps Mr.  Taylor had, but I doubted it.  This time when I
leaned forward onto the handlebars, he firmly grasped my butt with both
hands, even burying his thumbs deeply into the crease where the strip of my
thong ran down between my cheeks.  Then to my extreme delight, while
leaving his left hand on my cheek, he drew the center finger of his right
hand down along the crack between each of my cheeks.  Leaving no doubt as
to his intent, he paused for just a few lusciously long heartbeats with the
tips of his fingers pressed to the wedge of velvety fabric where it emerged
from between the bottom of my bare butt.  Then ever so slowly, and much to
my delight, he slid his fingers up between the open spread of my legs and
curled them up so he was cupping the fabric of my thong centered between my
legs.

   This was another next step, that next plateau.  Pretense was pretense,
and for the fun of the game we could both continue to act as if I was just
his daughter's innocent friend, and we were both only interested in my
receiving a proper workout.  Yet the delicious reality was I was standing
astride off of the saddle, my butt, for all intents and purposes was naked,
and Mr.  Taylor had his fingers exactly where I craved for them to be. 
While standing astride the pedals, I was now basically sitting my bare
bottom down upon his palm.  Bent over with my elbows on the handlebars,
when I looked down, I could actually see his hand cupping the front of the
wedge of fabric centered between my legs, and I couldn't help but gasp from
the pleasure of him being so bold as to reach in from behind and touch me
everywhere up between my legs.

   Mr.  Taylor made no move to withdraw either of his hands, and when I
looked up, I saw him look me in the eyes.  "Do you feel that, Jenny Lynn?"

   I could have replied with, 'Are you kidding?  Of course I'm feeling your
hand cupping my pussy!' Yet not able to find my voice, I simply nodded.

   With his eyes still on mine, he drew back his hand slightly, and then
using his three middle fingers he actually pressed deeply into the thin
strip of fabric covering my vagina.  "This is how you need to feel the
saddle when you sit on it."

   With my heart up in my throat and pounding in my ears, his voice sounded
strained, but it could have just been me.  Dropping my eyes again, my heart
skipped a beat when I saw him slide his hand back up between the spread of
my legs and then once again firmly cup the front of my pussy.  His left
hand still on my bare left cheek, and his right hand now centered between
the spread of my legs, when I looked back up and again met his eyes, my
throat had gone so dry, all I could manage to do was to croak, "Yes, Mr. 
Taylor.  I definitely feel that."

   Ever so slowly, and while still looking me in the eyes, Mr.  Taylor slid
back his hand.  Then holding onto my hips, he helped me position myself
down on the seat correctly.  I was so excited, Mr.  Taylor could have
ordered me to get down, told me to take off my leotard, then bent me over
one of his machines and plunged himself inside me.  Right now, at this very
moment, I would have done absolutely anything he wanted.  Anything at all.
Yet I absolutely loved every second of what he was doing, and my pussy was
absolutely on fire.

   After I had settled down on the seat and begun peddling, I had a flash
of inspiration, which would serve well to advance us another step in our
naughty little game.  I'd only been peddling a short while when I reached
up and began rubbing my shoulder around the strap of my leotard.

   From where Mr.  Taylor was standing off to my side, he noticed right off
and was very concerned.  "What's the matter, Jenny Lynn?"

   "My leotard is chafing my skin.  I'm not sure why, but it's very
uncomfortable." Ceasing to pedal, I began rubbing my shoulder more
vigorously.  "It must be because the fabric is new."

   In response, Mr.  Taylor simply raised his eyebrows questioningly.

   That he didn't say anything, only looked at me as he had was perfect.  I
took it that he was now leaving our next step to me.  Since I had made a
good show of demonstrating my growing discomfort, I turned my attention
back to the machine and concentrated on working up an even stronger sweat.
When I got off, I quickly reached down with both hands and tugged at the
crotch area of my leotard.  Naturally, Mr.  Taylor' eyes eagerly followed
my every move.

   He stepped closer, his own face gone ruddy as if it was he was the one
working out.  "What's the matter, Jenny Lynn?  It's not a cramp is it?"

   "I'm really sorry, Mr.  Taylor." I went so far as to run my thumb up
under the fabric in the center of my crotch and pull the strip of cloth out
much further than was necessary.  "Now it's chafing me down here, too.  You
can't actually exercise when you're trying one of these things on in the
store.  There was no way I could have known it would be this
uncomfortable."

   "Would you like to stop now?" The disappointment darkening his voice was
so real it almost hurt for me to see it in his face.  "It'd be such a shame
to quit now." Focused upon watching me tugging at the fabric between my
legs, he didn't look up.  "You haven't even really gotten started with
learning most of the equipment.  But you tell me what you want to do." Now,
he made a point of looking me squarely in the eyes.  "Remember, Jenny Lynn,
if you ever say you want to stop what we're doing, we'll stop.  If you
become uncomfortable for any reason, you just tell me, and we will stop."

   Hearing him say this was so sweet.  Of course, I absolutely had no
desire in the world to stop, but the sincerity of his concern for me was
just the right thing to give me that gentle push over the edge.

   "No!  No!" Ceasing to tug at my crotch, I placed one hand on his
shoulder and looked him back in the eye.  "I really do want to learn
everything you can teach me, Mr.  Taylor.  Anything, anything at all you
want me to do, all you have to do is ask." I changed my tack slightly;
confident he had received my message as surely as I had received his. 
"This is really important to me.  I need to get in shape as soon as I can,
and I know using these machines will help me a lot."

   He seemed satisfied.  "Well, I hate to see you in so much discomfort. 
Do you have anything else you could change into?"

   "No, I didn't bring anything else." I actually even threw in a pout as a
measure of effect.  "Darn it."

   Mr.  Taylor showed me that sly grin of his once again.  "I don't suppose
you'd want to borrow Mrs.  Taylor' flannel nightgown like you did when you
spent the night here before?"

   Maybe I was a little slow, but it took me a moment to realize he was
joking.  When I realized he was only teasing, I definitely shook my head.

   "Well, Jenny Lynn." He began rubbing his chin.  "What'll we do?"

   That was it.  It really as all up to me now.  It was time to go for
broke.  "Well..." Looking down, and wanting to make it look as though I was
considering my options, I watched the tip of my shoe drag back and forth
across the carpet.  When I looked up, I swallowed back my throbbing heart,
and came right out and said it.  "Mr.  Taylor, I know you've already as
much as seen me naked when I was here the last time." Eye to eye, there
fell such a deliciously long pause as we both envisioned at least one
favorite scene during my previous visit.  Even without sharing any words,
taking a moment for the both of us to flash back and watch each other as we
relived at least one of the memories we'd created together was unexpectedly
intimate, but I felt compelled to press on.  "So..." My foot was back to
pawing a circle around and around on the carpet.  "I really don't think
there needs to be any false modesty between us." My foot stopped and so did
my heart when I looked straight into his eyes and asked, "Would it
embarrass you all too terribly if I were to take off my leotard, and I
exercised without it?"

   It was his turn to pause.  And I have to admit, even at this stage in
our game I was taking nothing for granted, and wasn't sure of what his
answer might be.

   "Why, uh, no, Jenny Lynn," finally, Mr.  Taylor responded.  "I'm pretty
sure I could handle that.  Remember what I said before, though.  Are you
absolutely sure this is something you want to do?"

   "Oh yes, Mr.  Taylor!" Revealing what an excitable young girl I was I
even bounced up on my toes.  "Yes, I do!  I really want to win the hurdles
this year, and I would like to be in good enough shape to win the first
meet, which is only a few weeks away." Somehow, I knew it would be more fun
if we still managed to keep up some sense of our pretense, and even as
eager and willing as I was, I didn't entirely want to let that go.  Perhaps
it was my excitement talking, but immediately after I said what I said
next, I knew it sounded silly.  "It would be great if I could win so big my
opponents will be afraid of me for the rest of the season."

   Mr.  Taylor was back to rubbing his chin again.  Yet I was pretty sure I
could tell he'd already made his decision last night, the moment he'd heard
my voice on the phone and agreed that I could come over.  "Well," dropping
his hand from his chin, he nodded, "okay, Jenny Lynn." In an instant, he
looked so serious and fatherly.  "I just don't want you to do anything
you're not completely comfortable with doing.  Because to tell the truth,
being so much older than you, I was a little afraid I might have gone a
little too far and exceeded some boundaries the last time we found
ourselves alone together."

   "Oh, no, Mr.  Taylor." Aware that he's the father of a daughter my own
age and was taking a big risk simply by being alone with me, it was my turn
to try to show him how serious I was.  "You've never done anything I didn't
want you to do.  And I want you to know." With a quick flash of my hand
across my chest, I crossed my heart.  "I promise I would never do anything
you wouldn't want me to do."

   I'm sure he understood what I meant, because instantly that boyish gleam
returned to his dark and beautiful eyes.  "So," he cleared his throat, "you
really don't have a problem with being naked in front of an old man?"

   "You are NOT an old man, Mr.  Taylor." Taking a step back, my excitement
showed through.  "And you are in really great shape."

   He smiled.  "Why thank you, Jenny Lynn.  On both counts."

   Without waiting for the remote possibility that Mr.  Taylor might change
his mind, I stepped back a couple of paces and then brought up my hands
exactly as I had learned in the ballet classes I took when I was a little
girl.  As he stood only a few feet away watching me, hooking my thumbs up
under the straps I lifted my leotard off from my shoulders and then down my
arms and breasts.  When my nipples popped out into view, they were as stiff
as they were sensitive, and they became even more so as Mr.  Taylor stood
there giving me that sly grin.  I know I had pretty much showed him all of
me before, but still, it was so very exciting to be stripping naked in
front of him; I took a little time to massage my shoulders and then even my
breasts.  It was so thrilling to have him just watch me; I grew so bold I
even allowed my fingers play with my nipples and lightly pinch at the tips
hoping I could make them stand up extra stiff and pert for him.

   I was standing before him with the top of my leotard rolled down around
my waist, when I let loose with a sigh of relief.  "It feels so good to get
that leotard off my shoulders, Mr.  Taylor.  I can't tell you how much it
was bothering me."

   He appeared about to say something, but I didn't hear anything come out.
I was so eager to show him even more of me; I simply tugged the leotard
down over my hips, enjoying the rush of cool air touching upon the wisps of
dark blonde hair between my legs as my little triangle came into view. 
Though I was looking down at myself, I knew Mr.  Taylor's eyes had followed
down from my nipples to my pussy, which is exactly where I wanted his eyes
to be.  The leotard was quite wet, and all balled up I actually had to
struggle to get it down off my hips and thighs and onto the floor.  The
effort was actually quite fun, as I knew my breasts were dangling away from
me, and bending down and wiggling my hips served to enhance the
overwhelmingly erotic feel of stripping myself naked in front of Kaylee's
dad.

   Finally, I just stepped out of my leotard and left it lying on the
carpet.  Wiggling around as I had getting it down my hips and off my
thighs, I'd made sure to end up with my back to Mr.  Taylor so I could
enjoy the delicious sensation of having my bare ass sticking straight up,
almost exactly as I had exposed myself to him while I was bent over in
front of his refrigerator.  Enjoying every second of it, there just simply
is no sexy sensation to compare with those moments when I've just freshly
bared my body to a man.

   My cheeks on fire as much from my excitement as from bending over, I
turned around to face him and then raised my hands up to either side of my
shoulders with my palms up.  "Well," when a little giggle slipped from my
lips, luckily it sounded more girlish than nervous, "this is me."

   For a few moments I just stood there soaking it all in and letting him
have a good, long look.  Then not waiting for him to ask me, though I would
have absolutely loved it had he asked me to do it for him, I turned slowly
around.  When I stopped and presented him with a view of my bare bottom,
even though out of the corner of my eye I could see him looking at me in a
mirror to my side, something about having my back turned to him caused my
excitement to surge.  Right then, had he walked up behind me, reached
around and cupped my breasts, and then pulled me up to him so my bare
bottom pressed into that bulge I remembered feeling in his pants, I would
have been in absolute heaven.

   Turning back around, I showed him my happiest smile, then I bent down
and snatched up my leotard off the floor, and with a girlish bounce in my
step, I carried it into the bathroom and hung it over the shower curtain.
Unexpectedly catching sight of myself naked in the mirror over the sink
when I walked in was even more exciting than when I was in the bathroom not
a half hour ago.  Yet not wasting time, when I quickly came back out, it
was everything I had hoped for to see Mr.  Taylor so hungrily devouring my
naked body with each and every step.  As excited as I was, I knew my pussy
lips and my pubic hair must be glistening with moisture, which I hoped Mr.
Taylor could see and appreciate.  For me, now that I was completely naked
and my soaked pussy was so openly exposed, the slippery sensation between
my legs as I walked was surely as titillating for me as looking at my pussy
was for him.  Of course, I had an agenda, too.  Glancing down at his
trousers, he must have repositioned his cock because I hadn't been able to
see if he had an erection before, but now the bulge in his pants was
pointing up at his waist and very prominent.  It was then I thought of how
much I would like to see it outside of his trousers, and with that thought
alone the most delightful little shiver passed through me, and I became
instantly even more moist up between my legs.

   Easy as you please I walked up to stand before him, then put my hands
behind the small of my back, simply enjoying being naked for the incredible
rush it was.  In the mirrors all around I could see us, and that too was so
exhilarating.  There we were, just a very naked and very eager young girl
alone with her friend's father.  I could see my own breasts, my nipples,
and the little triangle of the darker blonde hair between my legs.  From
other reflections in other mirrors, I could see us in profile, and I could
even see my own butt and my girlish ponytail hanging down my back.  Truly
an exhibitionist's dream come true, the entire sensation was so incredibly
delicious.  I just stood there for him, letting him feast his eyes while
eating it all up myself.  The atmosphere of sexual heat in that room was so
real, it was as if I had never before felt so naked in all my life.  The
essence of what he and I were doing was pure thrill.  I knew it right then
as I will for the rest of my life, this is what sex feels like!  You're
standing totally naked in front of this man, Jenny Lynn.  And, oh God!  How
much I like it!

   Raising his hand to cough, Mr.  Taylor broke the spell.

   I was only dimly aware I was digging the toes of one foot into the
carpet when finally I found my voice.  "Is this okay with you, Mr.  Taylor?
You know.  My being naked and all."

   Mr.  Taylor crossed his arms and then crossed them again, then uncrossed
them and then finally shoved his hands down into his pockets.  "Sure."
Still unable to decide what to do with his hands, he brought his fist up to
his mouth and cleared his throat.  "Jenny Lynn..." Shaking his head as if
lost in wonder, he never took his eyes off of me for a second.  "You are
truly a very beautiful and very sexy young lady."

   Without another word, Mr.  reached out as if to touch me.  For a split
second, my excitement spiked off the scale when I saw his hand move towards
me.  Right then, he could have wrapped me in his arms, pulled me down onto
the floor, climbed on top of me and had his way with me however he liked.
Or, he could have just touched me, toying with first one nipple and then
the other while with his other hand he reached down and cupped me between
my legs, slipping his middle finger deeply up inside me while watching my
reaction in my eyes as he explored the deepest intimacies of my body. 
Whatever he wanted to do with me was what I wanted, too.  Yet placing his
hand on my shoulder, he steered me over to the next machine.  It was then I
realized maybe I should have waited until after this next machine to have
found an excuse to have taken off my leotard.  He led me over to a leg
spreader called a hip abductor!  It's the kind of machine meant to exercise
the muscles of the groin and the inner thighs.  To use it, you put your
knees into the pads, then open and close your legs against the resistance
of the weights.  Of course, you don't do this only once.  To receive the
full benefit, you're supposed to repeat the process for ten, twenty, or
even more repetitions!

   Even just seeing the seat and thigh pads and realizing what I would look
like mounted on such a machine, I was pretty sure the lips between my legs
would end up spreading wide open, possibly even giving Mr.  Taylor a clear
view up into my vagina.  Perhaps because I was still somewhat of a
fledgling exhibitionist and only just learning, the thought of so openly
exposing myself was almost overwhelming.  Strangely, I felt embarrassed. 
Yet, too, doing something as audacious as to sit back and spread my legs
wide in front of a mature man like Mr.  Taylor was so exciting; I had never
dared to imagine I could experience such a thrill without immediately
having an orgasm.

   As if in a daze, I willingly allowed Mr.  Taylor to help position me in
the machine.  He was ever so flushed and his eyes stayed absolutely glued
to my pussy as I straddled the seat and then sat down.  I recall sitting
there for a moment gathering my resolve, and when I actually did it, it
didn't seem real.  Lifting my thighs and spreading my legs apart, I placed
both my knees up between the pads.

   Every second of it was all so intense, surely an experience I will
remember for the rest of my life.  It is entirely one thing to play a game
of pretense and allow a man some secret peeks at my body or to even enjoy a
clandestine touch or two.  Yet, to be totally naked and to sit down and
actually open my legs for the father of a friend, this was an entirely new
erotic challenge.  My heart was racing, and my throat had gone totally dry.
Yet I did it!  And I know in doing this, I enhanced the core of my
sensuality in such a way I am a bolder and more confident woman to this
day.

   Suddenly, all at once the realization flowed through me.  Here I am
without a single stitch on my body and with my legs wide open.  Leaving me
no doubt what I was doing was real; I could see myself in mirrors both in
front and to the sides.  My blonde ponytail was hanging forward over my
left shoulder and my nipples were standing up more stiff and pink than I
could ever remember.  My cheeks were flushed a fiery red, even though I
hadn't put on any rouge before coming over.  Most striking of all was when
I first pushed with my knees against the pads just a little bit, and I felt
my innermost lips begin to spread apart.

   Mr.  Taylor had come around to stand right in front of me.  He was
blocking my view of myself in the mirror on the wall in front of me, but
OMG!  And the way Kaylee's father was looking at me!  My heart was pounding
and pounding!  I will never, never, ever forget it.

   I don't know how long he stood only a few feet away looking straight
down between my legs, or how long I let him look at me just sitting there
with my knees up in those pads.  Perhaps it was that unique sensation a
woman experiences when she becomes ultra-aware of her innermost lips that
caused me to pause before pressing my knees with any more force into those
pads, but suddenly, I flashed upon an even bolder idea and decided to
pretend I was doing it wrong.

   Shaking my head, I looked up to him pleadingly.  "This doesn't feel
quite right, Mr.  Taylor." I even went so far as to reach down and gently
touch myself just above the opening of my vagina.  Then slowly drawing the
tip of my middle finger up and gently spreading my lips apart as I went,
when I grazed the tip of my finger up and over my swollen, little, pink
rosebud I couldn't help but shiver.  My heart was racing so, and I was so
on fire, I couldn't believe I managed to find my voice much less sound so
coy and innocent as I lifted away my hand and asked, "Does this look right
to you, Mr.  Taylor?"

   From his scarlet cheeks and eyes spread even more wide open than my
legs, there could be no doubt what I was showing him looked right to him.
The man's face was simply livid, and I noticed his hands trembling ever so
slightly as he stood there rubbing at his chin.  Yet not saying a single
thing, Mr.  Taylor came back around, and I shifted my sweaty bottom on the
vinyl seat as I allowed him to put his hands up under my thighs and then
reposition my legs.  Having him so close caused the heat inside me to
surge. The massive bulge standing up in the front of his trousers was so
close and level with my eyes.  When he walked up to me, I could have
reached out and touched it or even leaned over and kissed it had I been so
bold.  Yet staying still and allowing him to lean over and move me, when I
happened to glance down between my legs and saw when I ran my fingers up
between my lips I had spread them so wide they exposed every inch of the
glistening pink within, my heart skipped a beat.  At this moment, I
couldn't recall ever having my legs this wide open in front of anybody
before, not even at the gynecologist's office.

   Yet wanting to a good little girl for Mr.  Taylor, I stayed still and
allowed him to place my legs so that my knees ended up back on the exact
same places on the pads they had been before.  Continuing to play our
little game was truly one of the most overpoweringly erotic experiences I
could have ever imagined.  Though our pretense was that I was simply
exercising, there is simply no thrill that compares with being completely
naked and spreading yourself wide open in front of a man like Mr.  Taylor.

   Of course, this wasn't going to be the end of it; as far as I was
concerned we were just getting started.  After settling my knees back into
the pads, he ran his hands down my calves, then back up over my knees,
slowly and luxuriously slipping his fingers along the tops of my
sweat-soaked thighs.  To see as well as feel his hands upon me as I watched
him slide his hands inward along the taut muscles of my inner thighs
stirred within me such a state of quivering anticipation.  I can't be sure,
but I'm pretty positive I was holding my breath and not daring to breathe
when the tips of his fingers stopped just short of touching upon the fringe
of blonde hair surrounding my very wet and very openly exposed pussy.

   When I looked up from his hands, we both made eye contact.  This was
obviously another one of those thresholds.  The intensity of my excitement
with his hands poised just millimeters from my most intimate cleft had me
achingly breathless.  My heart simply was pounding and throbbing up in my
throat, and his hesitation, his stopping just before that moment of moments
was almost too much for even a young heart like mine to handle.  Kneeling
down beside me, Mr.  Taylor just looked at me, while I looked back at him.
If he was waiting for me to tell him not to go any further, he was in for a
very long wait.

   Even as young and inexperienced as I was, I knew that my pretense of
innocence was the key ingredient in our recipe for erotic fun.  When I
first began to reveal my body to Mr.  Taylor, it had been so exciting to
pretend I wasn't doing what I was actually doing when my nightie slipped
down 'by accident.' Or that I just happened to bend over too far and
coincidentally had 'forgotten' to have on any panties while I searched
about in the refrigerator for that elusive orange juice that Saturday
morning when Mr.  Taylor and I found ourselves alone in the kitchen.

   Since Mr.  Taylor still hadn't moved his hands any further, feeling I
had to say something, I couldn't hide the quake in my voice when I managed
to ask, "Am I in the right position now?"

   Coming back to himself and lifting his hands he got up off his knees and
stepped away.  Perhaps his own throat was a dry as mine was as he only
nodded, then walked around to stand once again out in front of me.  He
raised one hand and circled his finger in the air as an indication for me
to start.  Clearing his throat, he instructed, "Try it now."

   I glanced down between my breasts and to the spread of my pussy, knowing
full well how dramatically my innermost lips and even my vagina would open
up the moment I really pressed my knees into those pads and spread the arms
apart as far as the machine would allow.  Placing my own hands on my
thighs, I swallowed and gave my knees a slight press.  Then I actually
began doing it!  Using just my knees, I moved the pads in and out, and in
and out, all the while looking down between my legs to see for myself the
tendons along the insides of my thighs standing out with the effort. 
Surprisingly, my lips didn't spread apart as much as they felt like they
did, possibly because he had the machine set on the lowest weight.  Still,
the sensation of opening and closing my legs again and again was all such
an intense rush.  After quite a few glorious repetitions, I had another of
my ideas.  "Ouch," I cried out.  "Ow!  Mr.  Taylor!  I think I have a cramp
in my thigh."

   Appearing very concerned, immediately he came back around and knelt down
beside me.  I pulled back my own hands and gripped the handles behind me.
Surely taking this for the invitation it was, straight away, Mr.  Taylor
placed his hands at the very tops of my thighs where mine had been just
moments ago.  With his thumbs down and in on my inner thighs, he gently
squeezed.

   I know with Mr.  Taylor so near and his thumbs so close to the most
intimate area of my body, surely I wasn't thinking very clearly.  Yet he
appeared hypnotized to be kneeling so close while taking in the view I was
presenting to him.  This close and from this angle, I was sure he could
actually see down into my vagina.  Perhaps he wasn't thinking clearly as
well, because he was so close, he could have easily leaned over to his
right and given my left nipple a kiss.  Just when it was about to become
awkward, Mr.  Taylor did find his voice.  "Those muscles do feel a little
stiff, Jenny Lynn." He squeezed in again with his thumbs, even more deeply
this time.  "Would you like for me to massage them for you?"

   Would I!  My cheeks were positively on fire, and I was burning up
inside. "Yes, yes!" All at once the words flew from my lips.  "Yes, I would
like that very much, Mr.  Taylor.  Would you?  Would you please?" To show
him how eager I was, leaning back and with my hands holding on to the
handles at the back of the machine I lifted my knees out of the pads and
spread my legs even wider as rested my thighs on the support arms.  "Ooh,
please, Mr.  Taylor.  It really hurts."

   Of course, it didn't hurt at all.  Lying back as I was with my arms
behind me, and completely naked and with my legs spread, what I was feeling
was actually quite the opposite of pain.

   Possibly enjoying the tease of the game we had been playing, taking a
bold step forward and then stepping back as we had been doing, Mr.  Taylor
didn't instantaneously move his hands down and in those last few delicious
millimeters.  Instead, he slid both hands back up to the tops of my thighs
and began to massage, kneading his strong fingers deeply into the muscles.
"Is this where the cramp is?"

   "Almost." I couldn't hide the disappointment in my voice.  "The cramp is
actually a little down and closer in.  You know, a little closer in from
where you had your hands just before you moved them." I gave him a
questioning glance.  "Would you massage me there?  I mean, is that okay?"

   "Oh?" Momentarily he held his eyes to mine, but as soon as we made deep
eye contact, he quickly looked away and down between the spread of my legs
as if spying his goal would help him to find the courage to go there.

   Thinking about Mr.  Taylor as often as I have, that despite everything
we had already done he acted hesitant rather than just jumping on me and
having his way with me is what made it all so perfect.  Being his
daughter's friend and presenting him with the opportunity to enjoy a
pretty, young girl was something I suspected didn't happen to him every
day. Certainly, even though he appeared so mature and experienced, I
suspect poor Mr.  Taylor had to be every bit as nervous as I was.  Perhaps
even more so.

   Keeping his eyes where they were, when Mr.  Taylor spoke he sounded
softly distracted.  "I know how difficult it can be to massage your own
cramp.  It always works much better if someone else does it for you."

   I exhaled and managed to give him a smile, even if my mouth still was
bone dry.  "Thank you so much, Mr.  Taylor, you're a real life saver."

   He responded by sliding his hands ever so slowly down and in-between
both of my my thighs, lower and lower towards the prize.  All the while,
millimeter by glorious millimeter occasionally flashing me glances as if
waiting for me to ask him to stop.  That just wasn't going to happen. 
Having already placed his fingers so near to my lips, I think I would have
died if he'd have stopped now.

   Leaning back and watching, perhaps he wasn't being cautious, but really,
he knew exactly what he was doing, because his going so slow was more
potent than any drug.  He had me positively burning up inside.  I just had
to feel that first contact without any cloth between his hands and me!  As
if the world had gone into a dizzying slow motion, every split second I can
remember seeing another image.  In the mirror to my right I could see
myself lying back naked and both my nipples standing up so stiff and pink.
The mirror directly in front reflected the wide-open spread of my legs and
his hands way up in between my thighs.  Then looking back down and seeing
Mr.  Taylor leaning in and concentrating upon my pussy, the level of my
excitement felt like that split second when I know with just one more touch
or stroke, an orgasm of cataclysmic proportions will carry me away. 
Driving me almost wild with anticipation, I had to have more!  Yet I also
didn't ever want this kind of excitement to end.

   For so many weeks, I'd fantasized and dreamt about being alone with Mr.
Taylor.  I'd played with myself, and brought myself to orgasm after orgasm
while alone in my bed and in the shower and tub, but this ...  this wasn't
fantasizing.  This was so real it was unreal!  Certainly he had to know
exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it to me on purpose, because
his going so slow was as intensely erotic as anything could possibly be. 
When I felt the tips of his fingers touch upon a few wisps I think I went
into what I can only call a panic of pleasure.  Only few millimeters more,
and he'd have me shivering, lost in absolute bliss.

   Mr.  Taylor had his own eyes centered upon the surrounding little
wrinkles of my innermost lips and the moist and glistening soft pink color
within.  Every moment of every thumping heartbeat was absolutely
unbelievable.  Absolutely unbelievable!  My breath was coming as hard as if
I had just run a mile, and the heat his hands were creating inside me just
seemed to be pouring out between my legs.  I was so pink, and so wet, and
so wide open.  Then, it happened.  Both of his index fingers suddenly took
that least little slip, and lightly brushed across my lips.  The tips of
his fingers instantly glistening and wet, we both watched spellbound.

   "I'm so sorry, Mr.  Taylor." I have no idea why I felt compelled to say
something right then much less apologize.  "I'm afraid I really perspire a
lot when I exercise."

   "That's okay, Jenny Lynn.  His fingers were gently sliding up and down
along the insides of my lips, spreading them even wider apart.  "All good
athletes do males and females alike."

   At this moment I had never felt so female in my entire life.

   Still attempting to keep up the pretense that Mr.  Taylor wasn't really
massaging my naked pussy, but was in fact only working on a cramp, somehow
I managed to stammer, "I'm sure they do."

   I knew male perspiration doesn't smell like my vagina when it's wet, and
neither does female perspiration either, for that matter.  Yet to me, the
heat and musk was almost overpowering.  It was a strange thing to be
self-conscious about something like this at time like this.  Perhaps it was
that I was so hot and wet and I had my legs spread so wide open.  It could
also be that being so young and new at all this I couldn't help but notice
my own musk.  No matter what it was, with what Mr.  Taylor was doing to me
with his fingers, it was impossible to concentrate on any one idea for
long. The only thing I knew for sure was each tickle and probe was making
me wetter than I had ever been in my life.

   Mr.  Taylor didn't seem to mind the aroma or the wetness as he began
massaging in places he hadn't touched before.  Gently pulling back on my
lips and spreading me so wide-open it seemed all I could see was pink.  In
unison, his thumbs began sliding up and down, not in the very center but
along the insides of my lips.  I'll always remember the sensation of
watching his thumbs part the topmost crease of my lips and seeing my
swollen and scarlet little rosebud pop out into view.  Almost instantly,
his thumbs focused upon it, tracing around and the base the plump little
morsel of flesh stood up all swollen and pink.  Then with one hand holding
me open and using just his other thumb, he began making these
excruciatingly delightful passes across the tip.  With all pretense now
laid bare, I just leaned back and gave myself over to my pleasure, my
breathing becoming heavier and heavier as the pressure within me continued
to build.

   Suddenly, he stopped.  Keeping one thumb just underneath the swollen
tip, and the other poised just on top, he took his eyes from between my
legs and looked up to my face.  "Are you okay, Jenny Lynn?"

   "Oh yes!" I'm not sure if I screamed it or just blurted it out.  It was
everything I could do to speak between gasps for breath.  My own hands were
gripping the bars behind me, and had the machine's arms not been keeping my
legs already spread I would have reflexively thrown my hips forward and
tried to spread myself for him even wider.  "Yes, Mr.  Taylor.  Yes!  I'm
fine.  But please, please keep going.  Don't stop now.  The pain is almost
gone."

   Mr.  Taylor flashed me that sly smile, then looked back down and
resumed. With each and every sweep of his thumbs the heat and pressure deep
within my vagina kept increasing.  His fingers and thumbs were becoming
soaked as he had me teetering on the edge of an absolute meltdown.  After
only a few more seconds of this excruciating pleasure, all of a sudden my
back arched up, and I thrust upward with my hips, moaning out loud as I
threw back my head and gave into the most powerful orgasm I had ever
experienced.  Gripping those handles with my sweat soaked hands and leaning
back with my hips up off the seat, I tried clenching my teeth to stifle my
moans and keep from crying out with each fresh surge of pleasure.  His
teasing me and going so slow had built up so much sexual tension, like the
explosion of a volcano; the orgasm erupted throughout my entire body, and
then washed over me again and again in wave after delicious wave. 
Shivering, quivering and my heart racing a mile a minute, the sensations
emanating from between my legs were so overwhelming, so intense, a few
moments passed before I could even open my eyes and let my bottom rest back
down on the seat.  He had me so rattled, it seemed to take a few minutes
before I could even begin to start to breathe normally again.

   When I was aware I could see again, I saw Mr.  Taylor was there, his
thumbs poised to either side of my still pulsing clit.  He had his own
incredible smile on his face, and seemed as pleased as ever I've seen any
man, then or at any other point in my life.

   Finally, I found my voice.  "That felt absolutely incredible, Mr. 
Taylor." Still, I couldn't entirely let the pretense die.  "I think the
cramp is all gone."

   Mr.  Taylor actually gave me a sweet and knowing little chuckle.  "I'm
glad, Jenny Lynn." As though he might kiss me, he moved in a bit closer. 
"But, maybe to make sure it's all gone I should I kiss it.  Do you think
that might make it feel even better?"

   When I realized what he was offering to do, another one of those rushes
took me totally by surprise.  He wants to kiss and lick my pussy!  Surely,
he had to know by now that I was totally his.  Anything, anything at all he
wanted to do for me, or with me, or to me, all he had to do was ask.  "Yes
please," I hushed.  "A kiss always helped when I was little."

   He cocked an eye, and gave my clit the most delightful little grazing
glance with the tip of his thumb, showing me he knew full well just how
sensitive I still was.  There came that sly grin again, and a moment later
I recall him saying, "Well, Jenny Lynn, I sure hope no one ever kissed a
boo-boo for you like I'm going to kiss you now."

   Of course, I knew about oral sex.  Yet I had never experienced it for
myself.  Though I had hoped to do some in-depth exploration with Kaylee,
that her dad, a grown man with real experience was offering to show me how
it's done took me by complete surprise.

   Mr.  Taylor stood up, and offering his hand to help me up, when I tried
to stand, I realized just how shaky and rubbery my legs were.  Still every
bit a gentleman, Mr.  Taylor held my hand so gently as I stepped out of the
machine and led me over to a pad on the floor.

   "Lie down for me, Jenny Lynn." Releasing my fingers, he nodded down to
the pad.  "Lie down, and then spread your legs really wide for me.  As wide
as you can."

   This was so exciting!  In my fantasies, I had imagined he would already
have fucked me at least once by now, but this unexpected twist had me on
pins and needles.  Eagerly I complied, lying down, lifting my knees and
then spreading my legs as he stood over me watching.

   Absolutely breathless with anticipation, I looked up to him.  "Is this
what you want, Mr.  Taylor?"

   He nodded.  "You are truly a ravishingly hot and sexy young lady, Jenny
Lynn."

   Ever since I had taken off my leotard, he'd seen me completely naked
close up and in more than one position.  Yet for a long moment, as Mr. 
Taylor stood looking down at me and appearing to be shaking his head lost
in wonder, I swam in a pool of pure exhibitionist bliss while lying back
and watching him feast his eyes on my body.  That he had said, 'hot and
sexy' rather than pretty or even beautiful, made me feel so hot and sexy.
Somehow, everything he did was so absolutely perfect.  The complete
opposite of my experiences with boys my own age.

   He stepped around and knelt down between my ankles.  Scooting his knees
back and bending down so that he was lying on his stomach and up on his
elbows, he looked up at me from between the spread of my legs.  "You can
sit up and lean back on your hands if you like, Jenny Lynn." His voice
sounded so calm, so mature manly.  "It'll help you to watch what I'm
doing."

   Instantly, I sat up.  Spreading my hands out to the sides and looking
down in stunned delight, I watched Mr.  Taylor place a gentle kiss first on
my innermost right thigh and then on my left.  Once again, that he didn't
rush and was so slow and deliberate in everything he did caused my
excitement to surge.  Using his thumbs to pull back the hood covering my
swollen, pink rosebud, when it popped out into view I watched him give the
tip such a soft and gentle little kiss.  The touch of his lips was so
delicate; in a single instant he sent another quaking shiver coursing
through me.  With my heart racing once again and my breath coming in ragged
gasps; I suspected this little quiver of an orgasm was nothing compared to
what would come.

   Lifting his lips and licking then, obviously savoring my taste, ever so
gently he slid his tongue down, all the way down.  He ran his tongue around
and around the opening of my vagina, then pushing only just the very tip of
his tongue down into me for a few brief seconds; he then licked me back up
between the spread of my lips until once again he rediscovered my clit. 
Mr. Taylor then did something truly wonderful with the tip of his tongue,
moving it in slow circles all around and around this ultra-sensitive bit of
my most intimate femininity.  Except for a couple times during sleepovers
with Kaylee when she had touched me between my legs while we pretended I
was making out with a boy I liked, I had never had anyone other than me my
touch my little rosebud before today.  I didn't have much experience with
boys my own age, but it seemed all they knew how to do was to stick their
middle finger up inside me.  Yet the sensations I was experiencing from
what Mr.  Taylor was doing to me with his tongue and lips were those of a
mature man who knows exactly what he's doing.  Looking down and watching
him as he left no intimacy untouched and went from one exquisite lick and
tickle to another using just his tongue and his lips was the most
wonderfully erotic and sensually powerful experience, far beyond any
pleasure I had ever imagined.  That what he was doing was so different and
unexpected compounded the level of my excitement tenfold.  When again he
took my clit up between his lips and gently kissed the tip, almost
immediately, I thought I was going to have another orgasm.  Yet just as I
was almost there, he stopped, looked up and cast me a quick and sly little
look.

   "Oh, don't stop!" I begged.  "Please!  Please, don't stop!"

   I'll always remember that sly grin he gave me just before he dropped his
eyes back down and suddenly sucked my clit back up into his lips and began
to suckle on that little mound of pink flesh like a baby with a nipple. 
Sitting up, I had my legs spread as wide as I could, and Mr.  Taylor had
his face turned slightly to allow me to see everything he was doing.  Not
in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined experiencing anything to compare
with this kind of pleasure.  Seeing him and feeling him, and hearing his
softly impassioned slurping sounds, the way he was suckling on my swollen,
pink rosebud was simply too much.  Almost instantly his lips overwhelmed
me, and I absolutely exploded once again.

   This time clenching my teeth did no good, and I made a thoroughly
embarrassing amount of noise as I tried not to thrash about with his lips
firmly attached to and still suckling on my clit.  That he didn't back off
or even let go, but kept his lips tightly pressed to me, white tickling at
the tip of my clit with the tip of his tongue, the pleasure of it was
almost more than I could stand.  Shuddering and crying out, I couldn't help
but lift my bottom completely up off the pad, and falling back on my elbows
I clutched his head in both hands, holding his face pressed tightly between
my legs as I shamelessly shivered and quivered.  It was incredible,
absolutely unbelievable the power of the orgasm pulsing throughout my young
body.  Every bit like a devastating earthquake, it took more than several
minutes for the aftershocks of quaking spasms to subside.

   Finally, little by little I came back to this world, let go of his head
and dropped my bottom down onto the pad.  Sweating profusely and entirely
breathless, when my eyes flashed open and I looked down to his face and saw
him smiling up from between the spread of my legs; somehow I fell back into
our little game.  "Whew!" I blew out an enormous exhale.  "I think the
cramp is all gone now, Mr.  Taylor.  Thank you so much."

   His face between my legs and his eyes to mine, his lips, cheek and chin
glistened with my juices.  "Yes, Jenny Lynn, you seem much more relaxed
now. I'm so very glad I was able to help."

   When he got to his feet, I could tell he was more than a bit shaky
himself.  "So, young lady." He clapped his hands together.  "What piece of
equipment would you like to try out now?"

   The piece of equipment I wanted to try out was the straining bulge in
his trousers.  I wanted to kneel before him, unzip and unbuckle his
trousers, then pull them and his underwear down about his ankles and see
his swollen cock point straight towards me.  A year or so ago I had a
boyfriend, Jimmie, who when we could get off alone, he would let me stroke
his erection and play with his balls.  The first time in my life I had ever
touched an erect penis, Jimmie and I had been in a pool playing around, and
he had 'accidentally' let his hands slide down the top of my bathing suit
as we took turns dunking each other.  I had responded by reaching my hand
up the leg of his swimsuit and then stroking him until he came right in my
hand.

   What I wanted now was to touch Mr.  Taylor's erection.  I wanted to see
it, and I wanted to stroke it.  Perhaps even kiss it, and then take him up
into my mouth and have him teach me how to suck a man.  And yes, I
especially wanted him to put it up inside me and fuck me.  I so very rarely
used that word, as it could be as ugly as it was powerful.  Yet to have
Kaylee's dad fuck me was exactly what I wanted.  I wanted to lie down right
here on this mat and to spread my legs for him as wide as I could once
again.  I wanted Mr.  Taylor to be naked, too, and I wanted him to lie over
me, and I wanted him to look me in the eyes as I felt him slide every inch
of himself up inside me.  I wanted him to fuck me, and I wanted to feel him
squirt up inside me as I had felt Jimmie do in my hand.  The desire was so
powerful, so all consuming.  I could feel the ache for him deep down
between my legs, and I again gushed wet as my imagination almost drove me
to another orgasm right then and there.

   Teetering on the edge of just coming out with it and blurting out, 'What
I want is for you to fuck me,' at that moment the phone rang upstairs.

   Instantly, we both froze.  As if he were mesmerized, he continued
standing there looking down at me, but on the third ring he came back to
life.

   "I think I'd better go get that, Jenny Lynn.  It's probably my wife or
Kaylee calling to let me know how they are."

   It really was hard to find my voice.  Yet, I had been oh, so close to
saying it.  Unfortunately, the fact the phone was ringing served to bring
me back from the brink, and reality rushed in.  Suddenly I knew exactly how
naked I was, and what Mr.  Taylor and I were up to.  "Of course," though my
throat was so dry, somehow I spoke up.  "You can say hello to Kaylee for me
if you want."

   With the real world intruding upon our fun, I could tell something had
changed.  I could feel it as well as sense it in his voice when he said,
"I'm not sure that would be such a good idea, Jenny Lynn.  Perhaps we
should make sure we keep your workout this evening just between ourselves."

   I may have been young and inexperienced, but I knew exactly what Mr. 
Taylor had been risking by being with me.  "Okay, Mr.  Taylor." I gave him
my most sympathetic and reassuring smile.  "You know I would never say or
do anything that might hurt you."

   He flashed me a smile, then ran upstairs, and I heard him answer the
phone on perhaps the eighth or ninth ring.  He'd been right.  It was his
wife.  Still naked, I followed him up the stairs, and walked over to where
Mr.  Taylor was sitting on the couch and talking on the phone.

   Even if my pussy was still soaking wet, my throat was so dry.  I
whispered, "Can I get some water?"

   He nodded, and I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of
water, being careful not to make too much noise while doing so.  It was
spooky to be standing naked in the Taylor's kitchen.  Seeing my own naked
reflection in a window brought it all back to me in waves of DÃ(C)jà vu.
We had come so close to doing it that day with me bent over his kitchen
table.  I had been so tempted to just have reached back around and tugged
his tennis shorts down, and then stuck out my bottom to make it easy as pie
for him to enter me.  That day the spoiler was Kaylee almost walking in and
catching us.  Now, tonight, it had just really been getting good again when
that damn phone rang.  A bit dejected, I walked back and stood in front of
Mr.  Taylor.  As he sat on his couch and spoke with his wife, I found it
was a thrill to look around the living room and know I was standing here
pretty as you please and completely naked.  Then another thought came to
me, and I stepped in closer to him and stood very still with my pussy only
a foot from his eyes.

   Slowly, I drank my water while he talked on the phone.  That, too,
provided an unexpectedly pleasant titillation in that the entire time, Mr.
Taylor was talking to his wife he was staring straight between my legs. 
When his free hand reached out and began to caress my thigh, I took it, and
moved it up to my pussy.

   As Mr.  Taylor looked up to me, he had a strangely questioning look on
his face.

   Keeping my voice extra low, I whispered, "Please."

   When he didn't withdraw his hand, putting my empty glass down on the
table beside the couch, I spread my feet wide apart on the carpet.  Almost
at once, his fingers began to explore me all up between my legs, even
reaching all the way back and in so he could squeeze both my cheeks.  Then
drawing his fingers back between the open spread of my legs, I had no idea
how Mr.  Taylor could manage to concentrate on his conversation.  While he
continued to listen and talk to his wife on the phone, he alternated
between tickling my little rosebud with his thumb and slipping the tip of
his middle finger up inside me.

   The only light in the room came from the lamp on the table beside the
couch.  Half in and half out of shadow, this was the very same living room
where I had first revealed my breasts to him.  Now, here I was completely
naked and standing here looking down and studying his face while enjoying
the dual sensations of seeing the excitement in his eyes and feeling his
fingers tickling and stroking me.

   When at last he slipped his middle finger all the way up inside me, I
was so young and so tight I couldn't help but gasp.  I don't think it was
so loud his wife could have heard, but it was then that he finally took his
eyes away from my pussy long enough to look up and into my eyes.  I was so
tight, but so wet, too.  A moment later when he bent his finger and began
to stroke upon my pubic bone, it provided such a thrill to see the
expression on his face react to quick shiver he almost instantly caused to
pass through me.

   This was another plateau achieved.  In my mind, as I had fantasized and
envisioned what we might do to together, it was one thing for him to see me
naked and to see my breasts, my nipples, and my bare butt.  Yet it was
something else again to have him touch me between my legs, and another for
him to suckle on my little rosebud, and still yet another to have him
actually put a part of his anatomy up into me, even if it was only his
finger.

   Yet the crowning glory, which I had so wantonly craved only a few
minutes ago, I wasn't so sure right now if we would achieve that goal, at
least not tonight.  I really and truly did want him to fuck me.  If he had
put the phone down right then, and asked me to lie down on the couch and
spread my legs, I would have done so without a moment's hesitation.  I
would have.  I desperately wanted to, especially now that he had his finger
up inside me.  When at last he finally slid his hard dick all the way up
into me, it would no longer be about games, pretense or thresholds.  As
young and inexperienced as I was, I didn't think there could be any more
levels after having gone all the way.  Yet in the back of my mind, I
suspected if anyone knew of something more, it would be Mr.  Taylor.

   Tickling and tugging at my own nipples while thinking about all this and
soaking up the sensation of his finger stroking me in and out, suddenly I
noticed the clock on the wall.  To my horror, I realized it was a few
minutes past ten o'clock, and I had told my mom I would be home by ten at
the latest.  I tapped his forearm and whispered in a dry hush, "I have to
go."

   I pulled myself away his hand, which made a surprisingly loud little
slurping sound as his finger came out of me.  It was so loud I actually
hoped his wife hadn't heard.  Stepping back, I whispered, "Tomorrow night?"

   Holding the phone cupped closely to his mouth and firmly against his
ear, he nodded, and I turned and raced down to the basement.  In the
bathroom, I quickly washed my pubic area and then got dressed.  Then,
hearing Mr.  Taylor still talking to his wife, I went upstairs, waved to
him, and then let myself out and hurried all the way home.

   It was almost eleven when I ran through the door.  Immediately, I began
apologizing to my mom, telling her that Mr.  Taylor's equipment was
wonderful, but more complicated than I had realized.  I decided to
embellish slightly to make sure I kept him properly protected from any
suspicion and added that I had trouble figuring it all out as the entire
time I was there, Mr.  Taylor had been upstairs working in his office. 
Without him to help, I told her I'd been a bit lost, and while trying to
figure out all the machines, I had lost track of time.

   I finished up by telling her, "Mr.  Taylor invited me back tomorrow
evening." Surprisingly, my mom said that would be fine, "but try a little
harder to get home by ten.  It's just not safe for a young girl to be out
by herself at that time of night."

   She then suggested, in her very nice way, I could do the family a favor
if I was to take a shower before going to bed.  I laughed, and told her
that I had planned to take one at Kaylee's house, but when I realized how
late it was, I didn't want to be even later so I changed out of my work out
clothes and ran straight home.

   As I turned to go to my room, my mom softly tugged at my ponytail.  "I
was wondering what's the matter?  You're so flushed; you look like you must
have run all the way home."

   I went upstairs, took a quick shower, then came down dressed in my
proper nightie and gave my mom and then my dad a very daughterly kiss on
the cheek.  While walking back to my room, I flashed upon the idea of 'what
if' I was to have Kaylee over one night, and I caught her letting my dad
peek down her nightie.  Or, 'what if' I were to catch her in the kitchen
with my dad, just as Kaylee had almost done with me and her dad. 
Strangely, I found the idea both disturbing and exciting.  If I was to
happen upon Kaylee and my dad doing any of the things Mr.  Taylor and I had
done, would I say anything or just watch in silence?

   Once I was up in my room, I flung off my nightie, laid atop my covers
and instantly began to re-live it all.  Every electric moment of every
second, step by step.  There was the memory of Mr.  Taylor peeking at me
through the gap in the bathroom's double doors as I changed into my
leotard. Then Mr.  Taylor's hands on my bare ass, as I stood up on the
bike's pedals.  Most delicious of these was looking down and seeing as well
as feeling his fingers reach up and cup me between my legs.  How it tickled
when he drew his finger along the crease between my bare cheeks.  Then
standing right out in the open and stripping naked for him.  And, of
course, spreading my legs so wide as I sat back on that glorious machine.
Even here in my bed, in my mind's eye the thrill was every bit as vivid and
as keen as it had been while seeing reflections of myself completely naked
in those mirrors covering every wall of Mr.  Taylor's work out room.

   Too excited to sleep and playing with myself, it all was coming back to
me.  That first touch of his thumbs spreading apart the lips of my pussy,
and then teasing my clit, which was exactly where my own fingers were
dallying at this very moment.  Yet the feeling of his lips and his tongue
as he sucked upon my swollen pink rosebud, that simply had been too much.
As well as reliving the sensations, each time I drew in a breath I could
smell the aroma of my sex.  Even the sound of it when I stepped back from
the couch and his finger slipped out of me!  I also found myself filled,
metaphorically speaking, with the visual recollection of the outline of his
firm cock straining against his trousers, which I had so dearly wanted to
set free.

   With all this going on in my head, it didn't take long for me to bring
myself to another wonderful orgasm.  Yet, with my imagination still holding
onto a vision of Mr.  Taylor's cock slipping into me, somehow I managed to
fall into a deep and restful sleep, in which my dreams were all about what
I hoped would happen when I returned to his house tomorrow night.