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 ï>¿Joanie: The Epilogue

   byJBEdwardsÂ(C)

   This is my 11th and last Joanie story.  I hope you have liked them.  I'm
even older now than I am portrayed in my stories, but the memories are
clear as a bell.  One does not forget these things easily, if ever.  Thank
you for having stuck with me and read the stories, if indeed you have.  If
this is your first Joanie story, you might want to read some of the others
before reading this one.

   **********

   If you have read my ten stories of my college years, you know I had some
pretty wild times, and that I was cruelly used by men for their own needs,
be it promotions, money, or just plain sex.  The common theme was that they
exploited my two weaknesses, both tied to being drunk, those being
exhibitionism and too easy to get into bed.  At times I was even much too
easy.  Basically, when drunk I am a slut.  I grew up too fast, I think. 

   Well I'm out of college now, even out of graduate school.  I'm 27 years
old, single, and I still have a great body.  And I'm still short, only now
I call it petite.  I've joined the workforce, and I am providing computer
security for, you guessed it, a bank in New York.  I dye my hair blonde,
changed how I wear it, and I go by my middle name.  I call myself Susie,
and nobody at this particular bank has yet fingered me for being "Joanie of
Zurich," thank God. 

   I'm very careful about exhibitionism at work.  My colleagues think I
don't like alcoholic drinks.  They respect that.  I don't date my
colleagues.  I don't think I come off as a cold bitch or anything, just
perhaps a private and reserved person who gets the job done.  So far, the
men I work with have respected that.  Mostly they are geeks, anyway, a
different breed of people than private bankers, traders and the like. 

   I have stopped several denial of service attacks, and prevented numerous
people and criminal gangs from hacking into people's accounts.  I even
stopped the Russians and the Chinese, and that's not easy.  I'm quite proud
of myself.  Even better, the bank realized just what I've done for it and
desperately wants to keep me happy.  Traders and private bankers having
naked pictures of me, or pictures of me in sexual acts on people's
computers is not the way to do that.

   Anyway, those pictures date back 7 years ago, and 7 years is a long
time. I was a foolish and carefree 20-year-old then, and I like to think,
and hope, that I am more mature now. 

   I get paid good money, too.  That's why I work at a bank. 

   The weekends are different.  Indeed, sometimes they are very different.
I don't have a boyfriend, really, although there are around three men who
are after me.  Of the three, Luke is my favorite.  He's not a banker; he's
a lawyer, quite a successful one.  The big drag is that he is much older,
being 38; that's an 11-year difference. 

   Last weekend he took me to the Hamptons, out on Long Island, to the most
remote "Hampton," called Montauk, where he has a small place.  He calls it
The Chateau, ironically since it is anything but a chateau.  Nevertheless,
even a small place out there on the beach is worth millions.  Montauk is at
the Eastern end of the island, and the island is long, over 100 miles long.
So at times out there I feel as if I am at the end of the earth. 

   It was a warm day, so we went to the beach.  I wore my bikini, and he
got interested.  We began to make out together, as if we were still
teenagers.  But we're not, so when he tried to remove my top and stick his
hand into my bottoms, I gently stopped him both times.  I said, "Wait. 
Wait until we're back in the chateau."

   "Susie," he said, "There's nobody around.  We're alone on the beach. 
That's the advantage of living out here." I looked him in the eye, and then
he tried again to remove my bikini top.  I was not drunk at all, I had not
a drop of alcohol since the previous weekend, but I let him do it. 

   He continued to kiss me, and clearly being pleased with himself for
having gotten my top off, he fondled my breasts.  It felt nice.  I could
feel him smiling through the kiss.  We continued like this for a while.  It
was exciting for me to be topless on the beach. 

   He climbed on top of me and I could feel his erection through his swim
trunks.  He began to remove my bottoms, too.  That would make me naked
underneath him, and I knew Luke well enough to know that meant that
inevitably we would be fucking on the beach.  I pushed him off, stood up,
and said, "If you are going to keep at this, Luke, you had better buy me a
few cocktails first."

   As I stood over him, topless, he was looking up at me, enjoying the
view. I did not realize my bikini bottom had been pushed down so that it
was barely hiding anything.  I saw a flash of light, looked carefully, and
could barely make out our neighbor, ogling me with a pair of binoculars.  A
lens had reflected the sun, and that's why I saw the flash.  We had a
voyeur.

   It was then that I noticed the top of my vagina was poking out of my
bottoms, and I instinctively moved my arms to pull it back up, when my arms
just stopped.  We had a voyeur.  All the better, let him look.  So I left
it like that, and I began to get aroused.

   All the old feelings from college came rushing back, and I got wet at
the idea of having a voyeur, even if it was probably just our neighbor. 
Thinking back, I guess I got aroused especially because it might be our
neighbor.  He was a hunk, and I had a crush on him.

   If he was the voyeur, we could do lots of things for him.  Ideas raced
through my head.

   I walked back to the chateau topless, not to titillate Luke although it
clearly did, but to give more of a show to the voyeur.  Aroused still, I
wore no bra under my blouse when I dressed for town.  I had not done that
since college.  Luke did not even notice, he was so used to my conservative
way of dressing it did not enter the realm of possibility in his brain. 

   I kept one short skirt out at the chateau.  Twenty-seven year old
professional women who work in banks don't wear mini skirts like I did
routinely in college, but for my usual wardrobe, this was fairly short.  I
also went without panties.  Luke did not know that, either.

   I had had some sort of brain freeze out there on the beach, and was
acting like my old exhibitionist self from 6 years earlier.  It felt good.
I knew I would not do this again, it was too risky, but I wanted to make
the most of this one time. 

   Luke took me to Southhampton, party central for the Hamptons, and he
took me to a bar where boys meet girls, girls meet boys, girls meet girls,
and boys meet boys.  It's also where NYC professionals go to get their
ya-ya's out on the weekends.  A lot of drinking happens in those bars, and
a lot of girls get drunk and get laid.  I wished Luke were not there; I
wanted to go native, to go wild, to get drunk and get laid. 

   I saw one girl who was really drunk.  She was around 24, 25.  I thought
she was pretty, but there was a sadness in her eyes.  Her blouse was
unbuttoned and her bra was unclasped.  Two men, one on each side of her,
had a hand on each boob.  She was kissing a third man while they felt her
up, and giggling when she was not kissing. 

   She did not have a care in the world; the booze had removed them.  I had
the feeling though except for tonight, she had a troubled soul.  The men
exploiting her drunken availability obviously did not care what the hell
her concerns were, or even if she had any, as long as nothing impeded their
goal to use her.  She gave every indication that all three of them might
reach that goal that very evening.  For a fleeting moment, I wished I were
she.

   Later she left with the three men.  They did not get far.  I looked out
the window and saw one of them fucking her right there on the sidewalk,
while the other two looked as if they were waiting their turns.  I told
Luke I needed another drink.

   I was getting seriously drunk, and began to play a game with myself.  I
decided with each drink I would unbutton a button on my blouse.  I told
Luke and he approved.  Luke said I already had had three drinks, and I was
holding my fourth, so he unbuttoned three buttons. 

   There was a mirror behind the bar.  There usually is in bars, and often
it reflects the bottles lined up in front of it.  I always find it a
pretty, appealing effect.  That's probably why all bars do it, I guess.  I
looked at myself using that mirror, and I could see a lot of boob.  I tried
leaning forward, and I could see all of my boobs save the nipples.  I
looked forward to finishing my fourth drink; then I would really be on
display.  I took my time, though.  A lot of the fun is the anticipation. 

   I said to Luke, "I'm feeling wild tonight.  After I finish this drink
and lose my fourth button, shall we pretend we're single?  You try to pick
up a girl, and I'll try to pick up a man.  Let's see who wins first.  The
one who gets kissed first is the winner.  What do you think?"

   Luke is handsome, rich, and smooth.  I was pretty sure he would get
someone right away.  There were a lot of NYC secretaries who came out on
the weekends expressly with the hope of meeting someone like Luke.  Many of
them were here, and most of them were drunk.  Quite a few were already
paired up, but quite a few were not. 

   I have low standards, but to my eyes every one of the girls in the bar
looked pretty.  Most also looked sexually available.  Not necessarily from
the way they dressed, although there was certainly that aspect, but from
the way they moved, and the looks in their eyes.  I always think that the
sexiest part of the body, man or woman, is the eyes.  Broadcasting sexual
availability in the eyes is the best way to get laid.  I knew how to do
that; it came naturally to me.  It also did not hurt that my boobs were on
display. 

   Indeed, pretty, drunk, unattached girls were in heavy supply that
evening.  I was sure I would lose to Luke.  Also a lot of the men would
prefer the young tarts to a 27-year-old professional woman.  But I would
have fun trying.  What I did not realize was the effect exposing my breasts
in a tantalizing way would have.

   Luke said, "Okay, I'm game.  But he has to kiss you.  You cannot kiss
him first, or ask for a kiss; that's cheating.  And we need a prize.  How
about whoever wins, we bring him or her home for a threesome?  Assuming the
victim is willing, of course." 

   I knew Luke had wanted a threesome for some time, but I had always said
no.  With this game he was likely to get one.  It was not a priori obvious
to me at least, that whoever we picked up would be up for sex, let alone a
threesome.  I was naïve.

   I was wrong about everything.  Once men realized I was single, they were
all over me.  I was a mature twenty-seven years old professional, not one
of the early twenties bubblehead secretaries.  I was a bigger catch.  My
breasts got them interested in me, and they stayed around hoping they could
seduce me.

   For what it's worth, and self-description is hard for me, I have a
pretty face and a nice body.  My body has been around the block a few
times, actually quite a few times, between the ages 18 and 22, but since
then not that much.  Looking back, it seems like my body back then was
running around the block continuously in a sexual marathon.  Still, the
upshot is that I know my way around a man, better than most women ever do,
their entire lives. 

   I was enjoying it and felt no need to rush things.  The men did though,
and before long I was being kissed.  What happened was one of these guys,
Zeke, asked me to dance, and while we danced he began to fondle my boobs.
He was cute and he wasn't a banker, so I let him.  Next thing I know he had
unbuttoned my blouse completely and was exposing my boobs to anyone who
could see me in the crowd. 

   When I let him do that, too, he began to kiss me.  It was a good kiss, a
sweet kiss, and an open mouth, sexy kiss. 

   Then a friend of his, named Elijah, cut in, and immediately began also
to fondle my boobs, since they were on display, and he too kissed me.  I
moaned a soft "hmmm" and Elijah stuck his hand under my skirt, right there
on the dance floor.  This made me very nervous but I did not stop him, I
just leaned in closer. 

   His hand soon found my pussy, and Elijah realized I was commando.  He
got a big smile.  My skirt was a short straight skirt, and it hugged my
ass, giving a sexy effect, not that anyone cared at this point.  But he
began to start pushing it up slowly, and I realized he wanted to expose my
private region to the dance floor, too. 

   This was too much, too fast, and I pulled away from him right into the
arms of Zeke.  I said "Excuse me, boys, I'll be right back." I had enjoyed
the kisses it a lot, but I wanted to let Luke know I had won.  I found him
kissing one of the drunken bubbleheads, named Mary.  We decided it was a
tie, and we should bring all three of them home, if they were willing. 
They were. 

   Before we left the 5 of us hung out together, and when Luke kissed me,
Zeke and Elijah put the moves on Mary, who gave them no resistance at all.
When they tried to undress her however, right there on the dance floor, she
resisted and got upset.  Elijah pointed at my blouse, and she saw that my
entire boobs, nipples too, were visible under my now almost completely open
blouse. 

   After that, Mary let Elijah and Zeke take her blouse off, and she was
dancing only in her bra.  Her bra was lace, and you could see her nipples
through the fabric.  During a slow dance, Zeke put his hand under her bra
and cupped her breast.  She giggled and ground a little into his cock. 

   Meanwhile I had gone back to Elijah and was dancing with him, and Luke
was left alone.  That's not healthy, and soon enough he had bubblehead
number two in his arms.  He began to kiss her, and inspired by Mary and me,
after some prolonged resistance she let him unbutton her blouse all the
way. 

   Her name was Samantha, and she went by Sam.  Her bra was a standard
white bra, nothing sexy or revealing.  But the context of her reluctance
and finally giving in to Luke was symbolic of surrender to him, and I found
the whole situation sexy. 

   I left Zeke and successively picked up two more guys.  Probably because
my boobs were hanging out for all to see, picking up the two guys was like
picking low hanging fruit.  My two new ones were Andrew and David.  After
quite a bit more drinking, the eight of us, five men and three women, were
headed back to The Chateau.  I was a little nervous about what would happen
there. 

   I felt sure it would have been better to have three men and three women.
The bubbleheads however were feeling no pain.  I'm not even sure they were
aware of the imbalance between men and women. 

   Everyone was drunk, so we left our cars in Southampton and took Uber to
the Chateau.  We'd return to get our cars tomorrow.  We were in three Uber
cars, since there were 8 of us, and the drive takes some time.  In my car,
I was in the back seat with Zeke on one side, and Elijah on the other. 

   Zeke began to kiss me.  I broke the kiss and asked the driver if he
minded.  He had already been checking out my boobs, and he said, "Not at
all, miss.  Mi coche es su coche," or something like that.  So I let Zeke
kiss me. 

   I thought this was fairly harmless, but of course Zeke began to fondle
my boobs.  They were already on display, after all.  Elijah was watching
this going on.  Not content only to watch, he stuck his hand under my
skirt. He knew now that I was without panties.  I tried to say no, but Zeke
was holding my head, pushing my face into his, and I could not get away
from the kiss to say no.

   I grabbed Elijah's wrist, the one attached to his hand now under my
skirt, and I slapped it.  Elijah smiled and slapped my bare thigh.  That of
course is not what I meant, but damn it, it felt good.  Seeing my reaction
he slapped it again.  I was so aroused now I began to squirm. 

   Zeke saw what was going on and broke the kiss.  The two men lay me down
with my head in Zeke's lap and my ass between them.  I'm so short I could
lie down flat in the back seat of this large Uber car.  I thought Zeke was
going to unzip and want me to blow him, right there in the car.  I did not
want to do that, I was no longer a drunk 20 year old, and I was not looking
forward to saying no.

   But I was wrong.  Instead in one quick coordinated move, Zeke lifted my
prone body an inch or so off the seat and Elijah pushed my skirt up to my
waist, exposing my bare ass and my cunt.  I was horrified and turned on at
the same time. 

   Before I could protest or try to push my skirt back down, Elijah slapped
my ass.  He slapped hard, and I cried out.  I stopped trying to push down
my skirt: it was too erotic.  My cry was not one of pain or protest, but
one of eros.  Zeke took over the slapping, which was hard and relentless,
while Elijah began to finger me roughly.  I was already sopping wet, so it
turned out not to be that rough. 

   It also turns out (and I didn't know this until then) that being spanked
was a huge turn on for me.  I had been spanked once during my wild times,
but nothing like this.  I could not see my ass, of course, since my face
was buried in the crotch of Zeke's pants, but Elijah told me later that my
ass became beet red.  Elijah found my clit, and I had a noisy orgasm. 

   The driver had been watching all this in his rear view mirror it turns
out, and at one point he pulled over.  He turned around and said, "The ride
is free boys if you will let me fuck her."

   Now I was offended.  Did he really think I would fuck someone for money?
And even if he did, the price of the Uber ride was small - he was implying
I was a two-bit whore.  I sat up, pushed down my skirt, buttoned up my
blouse, and said, "I think it's best if you just drive us to the
destination, please."

   He shrugged, got back into the driver's seat, and I did not let the men
do anything to me, not even kiss me, for the rest of the ride home.  I kind
of understood, however.  I was not giving a great impression letting two
men treat me that way, and exposing myself, in his car.  What was he
supposed to think?  But still, I was furious.  It certainly did kill the
mood.

   One problem was that I was still turned on and wanted more.  Both men
had tents in their pants.  The driver did too, I noticed, when he asked to
fuck me.  I knew I was in for some sexually heavy times at The Chateau. 

   We were the last of the three to arrive.  As we left the car to walk up
to the house, I heard the music Luke had already put on the sound system.
All the lights were on, and the blinds were up, so we could see into the
house, and so could anyone else who happened by.

   The music had a nice beat.  We entered and saw Luke sitting and sipping
a cocktail, while Andrew and David were dancing with Mary and Samantha. 
Excuse me, Mary and Sam. 

   Sam was already naked above the waist, and her tight pants were still
on, but they were unzipped.  Mary was dancing in just her panties.  All
three men were fully clothed.  The girls were dancing with drinks in their
hands, occasionally spilling them as they moved and were groped.  Most of
the time they were giggling.  Sam would reach over from time to time and
give Andrew a sloppy kiss, then dance away from him, giggling. 

   A slow song came on, and the men pulled the two girls close to them.  As
they danced and ground their pelvises together, David pushed down Mary's
panties, and she stepped out of them, kissing him while she did so.  As if
inspired by this, Andrew peeled off Sam's tight pants, taking her panties
off with them.  Now both girls were dancing naked.  Everyone applauded
them.

   That left me, fully clothed.  Zeke and Elijah looked at me hungrily.  I
looked at them and shrugged.  They pulled me up from the couch where I sat
next to Luke, and removed my blouse.  I was now topless.  Quick as a bunny
they also removed my skirt, and I was now naked, like the other two
girls. 

   Luke left to get his camera.  He posed the three of us naked, me, Mary,
and Samantha in a line facing him, and he snapped away.  He wanted some
"sexy pictures," so I stuck a finger in Mary, and she stuck a finger in
Sam. Sam had nobody to stick a finger in, since we were lined up and my
cunt was too far away, so she stuck a finger into Mary's asshole.  Mary
jumped when Sam's finger entered her ass; she had not been expecting it. 
This caused cheers among the men.  Luke snapped away.



   "More, please," Luke said.  So I got onto my knees and began to lick
Mary's slit.  Mary groaned.  Samantha was left out again, so she went over
to Zeke, undressed him quickly, and let him by his cock over to me, and
said, "Stick it in." He entered me and began to pump away, fucking me
nicely.  Andrew undressed, came over and roughly pushed Sam to the floor.
He picked up her head with both hands and brought it to his semi erect
cock. She took the hint and swallowed it up to his balls.

   Andrew's cock quickly began to grow to its full size in her mouth, and
he held her head in its position, and she began to gag and get a little
frantic.  He let her head go, pushed her onto her back, spread his legs,
and plunged it into her.  She gasped as he entered her and then he roughly
and brutally fucked her. 

   In comparison, Zeke was being sweet and gentle, as he pumped in me
slowly.  I stood up forcing Zeke out of me, and leaving Mary with no one to
continue her cunnilingus.  She was squirming on the floor.  I turned to
Elijah and whispered in his ear, "I want that, but rougher." I nodded my
head towards Andrew and Sam.  I had been thinking about how erotic Elijah's
spanking had been in the car.  Elijah said nothing.  He only smiled. 

   Elijah's smile scared me.  I knew I wanted to be manhandled and have
rough sex, but I did not know in any detail what I wanted.  It was more a
general erotic desire, awakened by the spanking in the car.  Elijah's smile
reeked of sadistic misogyny and that scared me.  I did not know him; I did
not know what he was capable of.  Fortunately I remembered Luke was there.
He would protect me, I hoped. 

   The first thing Elijah did was to enlist everyone else and to tie me up.
The men were enthusiastic, the girls less so, since they were being
ignored. But still, they were curious.  They led me outside to the front
yard.  They lay me on the cold ground, and tied me to four trees.  Elijah
put a pillow under my head, propping it up a little, so I could see my
naked body sprawling out below it.  I complained I was lying on rocks
digging into my back; it would be better on the grass.

   Elijah smiled his wicked smile, and said, "Yes, I know.  You are mine
now, you do as I say." When he said that I had two reactions at once.  I
shivered and my cunt became electrified.  I realized I was suddenly a
submissive.  I had hints of this in the past, when I would get drunk and do
what men wanted (within reason) if they spoke authoritatively and ordered
me to do it. 

   But this was of a whole different dimension.  Everyone left me there and
disappeared into the house.  I just lay there, out in the cold, exposed to
anyone who wanted to look.  Fortunately, the house was at the end of the
island and not too many people were about, even fewer pedestrians.  Only
our neighbors might walk by.  Our neighbors!  I thought.  How humiliating
for them to see me like this.  My cunt began to get seriously wet. 

   I heard the music restart.  I was getting rather cold.  My flesh had
goose bumps and my nipples were hard as rocks.  Finally Andrew and Samantha
came out.  Elijah was supervising.  He told Samantha to lie down and rest
her head on my flat tummy, as a pillow.  He removed the rocks from where
she would be lying.  Bastard.  Only I got the rocks.

   Then Andrew loomed over her, put his cock at her mouth, and she sucked
for all she was worth, with her head on my tummy.  I had a rather intimate
view.  Elijah left, and when he retuned he was carrying something, but he
hid it from my view. 

   He stopped the fellatio and he moved Samantha so that her ass was now on
my tummy.  He pushed her up a little more so that her cunt was at the edge
of my hip.  Her head was down on the ground, as were her feet.  He told her
to spread her legs wide. 

   Luke snapped a flash photo.  I thought of our neighbor seeing the flash,
getting curious and trying to see what we were doing.  I shuddered.  Then
Elijah said to Andrew, she's all yours until David gets hard again. 
Apparently David had already fucked Mary, or been sucked off by her, or had
been jacked off, I had no way of knowing.  Or maybe it was by Samantha
before she came outside?  I doubted that.

   Andrew stuck it in, giving Samantha a nice but fairly brutal fuck. 
Elijah yelled at him to fuck her harder.  He did.  Elijah wanted it harder
still.  Sam's midsection was bouncing around on my naked tummy as they
fucked.  It was torture for me.  My eyes were glued to the action
nevertheless.  Samantha was not a moaner, but she clearly enjoyed the fuck,
even if her position was a little awkward.

   Elijah was holding the brush from our dustpan.  It had dust at its ends.
He started hitting my boobs with the brush.  The bristles were fairly soft,
so it didn't hurt, thank goodness.  But the sensation of the soft blows
while Sam's midsection was moving rhythmically on top of my midsection,
plus the smell of their sex, was erotic.  A groan slipped out of my
mouth. 

   When I groaned Elijah stopped.  He took our broom that Luke had brought
out, apparently at Elijah's request, and used the leverage of the long
handle to hit my boobs with increasing ferocity.  The broom's bristles were
much stiffer than were those of the dustpan brush, and they really stung. 

   David suddenly appeared out of nowhere.  I was raised up a bit,
straining at the ropes, and having them dig in more around my ankles.  It
hurt.  David slid his legs underneath me and without warning stuck his cock
into me.  I was already sopping wet down there, so he slid in easily. 

   He got a rhythm going, but it was not the same as Sam's body.  Sam was
coming back down to my tummy when David would thrust up into me.  The
combined pressure was intense, and with each of David's thrusts I let out
increasingly loud groans.  They soon became screams.  Luke was filming all
of this.  He had set up his movie camera. 

   Mary wandered out of the house, still naked.  Now everybody was outside
helping Elijah with his machinations.  Apparently she felt left out, so she
undressed Luke and began to suck him off.  Elijah snuck up behind her and
his raging, hard cock entered her ass.  She screamed when he entered.  He
had used no lube, and no warning. 

   The ass entry had pushed her head forward so that she enveloped Luke's
entire cock.  I had never managed that.  But she gagged and was in
distress. Elijah ignored this and was pounding away in her ass.  She began
to cry but she kept on sucking Luke and did not try to get Elijah to stop.
I don't know if would have, anyway. 

   The lights and the screaming, music and noise brought our neighbor, the
voyeur, over to see what was going on.  With my head propped up I could
have seen him but Sam's body was blocking my view as Andrew continued to
relentlessly fuck her. 

   Apparently he just stood there looking, as if he were in a state of
shock.  Elijah saw him and pulled out of Mary's ass, and told her to get up
and undress our neighbor.  I don't know why, maybe was scared of him, or
also a submissive, but she did as she was told.  She undressed him and then
gave his cock a few sucks. 

   Andrew blew his load into Samantha, and he told her to get up.  Then he
went to our neighbor and led him to me.  He said, "Fuck her.  She needs it.
Tell him you need it, Susie." Then he turned to our neighbor and said,
"She's my bitch tonight."

   I said to our neighbor, "I want you to fuck me."

   Elijah started whipping me with the broom, this time all over including
my cunt, and said, "That's not what I told you to do!" Luke was catching
all of this with his camera. 

   I realized my mistake.  I said to our neighbor, "I need you to fuck
me." 

   Elijah said get on her and do it, or I'll really punish her.  I pleaded
with my eyes. 

   The neighbor said, "I don't know her, I'm only the neighbor.  I can't do
this."

   Elijah said, "Mary and Samantha, he's yours to torture."

   Our neighbor did not know what strange world of sexual games he had
innocently wandered into, and he got scared when he heard the word torture,
seeing me already tied up outside on the rocks and being beaten with a
broom.  I could tell my body was red and welting.  So he said, "I'll fuck
her.  I've been lusting after her for some time, so it will be nice, since
she needs me to." He emphasized the word needs.  Elijah smiled. 

   Our neighbor gave me a great fuck.  I realized I had wanted to fuck him
for a long time, and now it was happening.  Also he was a good fuck, but
mostly it was due to my desire that I came so quickly.  Without realizing
what I was doing, I screamed loudly when I came. 

   Our neighbor smiled, and kept right on fucking me.  He put a finger down
and began to frig my clit while he fucked me, and then I had my first
rolling orgasm, coming continuously.  God it was good.  Everyone was
watching, too, which turned me on something fierce.  I tried to wrap my
legs around him, but of course could not because they were tied to trees,
and the reminder that I was bound and could not get away turned me on even
more. 

   All this together combined to give me the strongest orgasm of my life. I
think I lost consciousness for a few seconds.  God it was fierce.  I
regained consciousness and our neighbor, oblivious to what had just
happened to me, but feeling macho by my loud reactions to his fucking, just
kept right on going. 

   This was not lost on Elijah, however, who had been observing everything.
When our neighbor finally shot his load in me, Elijah said to Luke, "Aren't
you going to invite him in for a drink?" They left for the house.  He told
Zeke and David to untie me, and he ordered the girls into the house.  They
were cold, and happy to oblige. 

   When I was free of my bonds, and sexually spent, Elijah ordered me to
crawl to the house.  I looked at him.  My knees would be bloody.  His
expression was grim, so I began to crawl to the house.  He hit my ass,
hard, with the broom as I crawled, it really hurt, and my ass began to
sting.  My cunt got wet with arousal.  But I made it: I had crawled all the
way to the house.

   In the house he tied me in a kneeling position into a ball with my knees
tucked under me.  Then he took me from behind, and as he had done with Mary
before me, there was no warning, and no lube used.  It was very painful at
first.  I realized that's the idea, so I kept quiet.  Eventually he blew
his load into my ass.  Whew, I thought. 

   He untied me and left his demon state and asked if he could get me a
drink, told me I was wonderful, and kissed me sweetly.  It seemed a bit
surreal. 

   Luke got antiseptic and cleaned the wounds on my back and knees, and put
bandages on them.  I realized that throughout that ordeal, it was "only"
David and our neighbor who had fucked my cunt, and Elijah who took me in
the ass.  I had been spared sex with Zeke, Andrew, and of course Luke.  But
I was satiated.  I had had enough. 

   Nevertheless, apparently Zeke had been lusting for me all night, and he
wanted his turn.  His chance came an hour later, when I was almost falling
down drunk, and could not have stopped anyone from fucking me.  Zeke's
patience was rewarded: he took me on the living room carpet in front of
everyone, and Luke's ubiquitous flash camera.  I had another noisy orgasm,
although it was nothing compared to my one with the neighbor.  But all
orgasms are wonderful, and I was happy, and just lay three on the floor
after the last fuck of the night. 

   It wasn't though.  Andrew took me a few minutes later.  I tried to
protest, but as I began Elijah kissed me, and I knew enough to know I had
better just enjoy the fuck.

   The last person to fuck my cunt that night was Elijah.  He fucked me
normally, there was no hint of his sadism everyone saw and I experienced
earlier that evening.  I did not cum with his normal fuck, but he sure did.
That man had a lot of cum.

   All the men except my date, Luke, had fucked me.  Even our neighbor
fucked me.  That's five men in total.  Our neighbor also stayed and was
there to see me get ravished by Zeke, Andrew, and Elijah, too.  I don't
know what he thought of me after all this.  I imagine he was not going to
invite me to go to church with him on Sunday.  I giggled to myself at the
thought. 

   The fucking over, I sat up, still naked, and oozing cum onto the rug
beneath me.  In this state I said, "Anyone here Catholic?" Only Mary was.
"You up for morning mass tomorrow?" I asked her. 

   Mary just stared at me.  She looked at the cum oozing out of my cunt. 
Then she collected herself, giggled, and said, "Sure why not.  Can you lend
me some appropriate clothes?" 

   I smiled wickedly and said, "Of course."

   I think Elijah was thinking of having church sex or something, but he
asked if he could join, even if he wasn't Catholic.  "Only if you take
communion and contribute to the poor box," I said. 

   "Deal," Elijah said.  That was that.  We all went to sleep.  Luke and I
took our usual places in bed, and everyone else slept on the floor of the
main room.  We lent them blankets and handed around some extra pillows,
throw pillows, and couch cushions. 

   The next morning the three of us, Mary, Elijah, and I drove to St. 
Teresa, the local Catholic Church.  I told Elijah that there would be no
sex with me in church.  Even though I was a lapsed Catholic, I thought it
was too disrespectful. 

   Elijah looked crestfallen, but then Mary said softly, "You know, I'm
here too.  Elijah you keep forgetting about me.  Last night it was all
about Susie and Samantha.  I felt a little left out."

   "Don't you find me attractive?" she said.

   Elijah did not reply, but his mood brightened.  Elijah and Mary sat
together near the back of the church, while I went up front.  I used the
time to meditate: What on earth I am doing with myself, stumbling through
life repeatedly making a mess of things? 

   Once again I decided to reform.  I felt like a smoker who quits
repeatedly, each time vowing this time is for real.  He would stay smoke
free until some pretty girl he had just fucked offered him an after sex
cigarette and took one herself.  The analogy with me worked with booze. 

   I don't know what happened at the back of the church, but something sure
did.  I could tell by the smell when they got in the car. 

   We drove home with me contemplative and Mary and Elijah all smiles. 
Elijah had his hands on Maria in spots the sun does not visit.

   When we got home Luke told me the news: We were done.  I was just too
wild for him.  This weekend he saw sides of me that, frankly, scared him.
Goodbye, and good luck.

   Well last night scared me, too, but dumping myself did not seem to be an
option.  I had let my weaknesses blow one of my best relationships.  I went
to the bedroom, closed the door, and cried.

   Samantha came in and tried to hold me and comfort me.  But it was not to
be.  I appreciated it, and told her she was sweet.  We exchanged
telephones. I cried for two hours.

   Samantha got us an Uber to the train station, and I took a train back to
Manhattan. 

   That was three years ago.  Now I'm 30 years old, and still single.  I
never thought I was an alcoholic, but I went to AA and damned if it did not
help!  I have not had a drink in 18 months.  My life is calm and my work is
better.  But I am lonely. 

   To distract myself I tried some discrete flashing.  When you are a
27-year-old working professional woman you cannot get away with things as
easily as you can when you are a college student.  It's a different
world. 

   I live in Manhattan, and there are so many people that if you look for
them, you find opportunities.  The flashing began unintentionally.  I was
in the subway, properly dressed, but it was a hot day.  The subway cars are
air conditioned, the platforms are not.  And there had been a problem, so I
had to wait a full 10 minutes for the train to come.

   When the train came it was packed.  I was wearing a skirt of the proper
length, and the jacket was part of my work outfit, the type one does not
remove.  Underneath I wore a very flimsy, almost (but not quite)
see-through blouse.  This is not a big deal, lots of women wear them, and
they wear modesty preserving bras underneath. 

   I don't own those kinds of bras.  My bra was a lacey, somewhat
see-through bra, although my nipple was covered.  Anyway, it was so hot I
took off my jacket on the platform.  I was left alone, so I did not really
understand the effect my new outfit might have on a 27-year-old bourgeois
looking woman, which is what I had become.

   Since there had been a long delay for the train, it was packed when it
arrived.  Lots of people exited at my station, the platform was packed and
everyone tried to get on.  I was well positioned, so I was able to be one
of the first to get on, and stood by the opposite door.  People pushed and
squeezed into the car, and I was pushed up against the opposite door.

   The cars have good air conditioning, but after a few stops I was still
sweating form the heat.  Everyone was.  All the warm bodies in the car
muted the effects of the air conditioning.  My flimsy blouse got wet from
my sweat, and I had no idea but now it was transparent. 

   We got to Grand Central Station, and half the car emptied.  Quite a few
people got on too, but the train car was not nearly so full.  I could
breathe easier; nobody was pushing me against the door anymore.  The man
next to me was staring intently into the train windows across from us.

   I got curious, because there was nothing to look at since we were in the
tunnel.  Then I realized the windows reflected the interiors of the cars.
He was staring at me.  Not at my face, a little lower.  I looked at my
reflection, just as he was doing, and I saw that my sweat had rendered my
blouse transparent, and also my bra.  He could see my entire boob through
my blouse and my bra, nipple included. 

   I had two emotions.  One was to cover myself, to put my jacket back on.
I was no longer overheated, so that would be the thing to do.  The other
was to let him look.  I had been unaware of it anyway.  I could pretend to
stay unaware.  Why not?  Who would it hurt?  Call it a wardrobe
malfunction. 

   Plus, with the second option, I would have two benefits: I would not get
overheated again, and I could continue my arousal, which I must tell you
was strong at this point. 

   This turned out to be a self-correcting harmless bit of exhibitionism,
since by the time I exited the subway, I had cooled off and my blouse and
bra had dried somewhat, and while I was still exposed, it was not so
much. 

   I was headed to the Upper East Side to see my doctor.  He works late on
Thursdays, so I can go after work.  Decision time: I now had to walk on the
crowded sidewalks for about 10 minutes to his office.  Jacket or no
jacket? 

   Stepping out of the train car the heat hit me like a moving truck. 
Climbing up the stairs I began to sweat.  Out onto the hot sidewalk the
heat felt brutal.  After a few minutes, I stopped in front of a shop
window, as if I were window-shopping.  In reality, I wanted to see my
reflection in the window.  It was not as easy as in the subway, but I could
tell once again my boobs and nipples were plainly visible, rendered so by
my sweat. 

   This was not acceptable on the Upper East Side.  Maybe it would be okay
in the village, or even in SoHo, but here?  No.  I reached for my jacket
and a thought hit me: I was sick of myself.  What had I become?  I kept my
jacket off, straightened my shoulders pushing out my boobs, and strolled
towards my doctor's office.

   All of the men walking the other way smiled at me when they noticed.  I
smiled back.  That's what girls do on the sidewalks of New York.

   I did have a reality check when I entered the doctor's building,
however, and quickly put my jacket back on.  This kept me warm, however,
and kept my chest moisture intact.  Damn. 

   The nurse came to get me from the waiting area and the first thing she
did was ask me to remove my jacket.  She saw my state.  I stammered my
embarrassment, but she said, "Honey, in this weather we see that a lot. 
We're professionals, no worries."

   When the doctor came in I was still on display.  He is a great guy and
very correct, but he is a man.  He tried not to show it, but a knowing
smile crossed his face.  I got aroused again.  The medical issue was fixed,
and I left happily, carrying my jacket for the subway ride back to Chelsea,
where I live. 

   After that, and the weekend in the Hamptons, my weakness for
exhibitionism resurfaced, and I did not have to be drunk to enjoy it.  On
the weekends, I began to go without a bra, but only in the morning.  I
would go out for walk, and find reasons to bend over a lot, giving
strangers a chance - should they be so inclined - to look down my blouse. 

   I did an informal survey.  I would say ¾ of the men, older and younger,
were very much inclined to benefit from my "carefree" nature.  I would go
braless.  unbutton a bit at times, and have a morning coffee in a coffee
shop.  I would choose a table when possible near a spot where people would
naturally be standing, for example the line to order and pay. 

   Some cafÃ(C)s, not many, had tables perfectly positioned for me.  Those
are the cafÃ(C)s that got my business.  I would bring a good book, one I
could get lost in.  Sometimes I would feel a presence near me, and take
short break from my book, and notice a man was "blouse downlooking." 

   I would instantly return to my book, and then squirm a bit in my seat in
just the right way so that my blouse would billow out the right amount to
give him a full breast view, nipple included.  It was a movement I became
highly skilled at.  I even practiced it at home, with a group of mirrors I
had set up.  I was (modesty aside) an expert at this. 

   I know a lot of women like to flash pussy.  That seemed more dangerous
to me, and also challenging.  Nevertheless one day I decided to try.  If
you take the East Side subway express train and exit at 59th Street, there
is a long escalator, always preferred to hiking up an equally long flight
of stairs.  So on this fateful day, I wore no panties, and a mini skirt.  I
figured anyone a couple of escalator stairs below me would have an
escalator-ride-long view of my pussy. 

   To remove doubt, while standing on the escalator, I bent over to adjust
the strap on my sandal, and I'm sure the man below me, if he were looking,
got a nice view of my bare ass and my pussy.  I don't shave it, so he saw a
hairy bush. 

   Then I did something that was in equal measures both daring and stupid.
I bent over to adjust my strap immediately after exiting the escalator. 
This gave the man behind me an excuse to bump into me by accident, right up
against my bare ass. 

   He took the chance!  He bumped into me, almost knocking me off my feet.
Had he indeed knocked me off my feet, my plan was to fall sprawling,
exposing myself to a clutch of people at once.  However he prevented me
from falling and profusely apologized, and helped to steady me,
"accidentally" touching my ass with his hand. 

   I could tell he was scared to see how I would react.  There is a big
campaign being waged against "inappropriate touching" by the subway
commission, and there are a lot of cops all about, mostly due to terrorist
threats.  Potentially I could have made trouble for him. 

   Instead I smiled a big smile and said, "Thank you for your help.  It's
nice to find a Good Samaritan in such a big city." He smiled back at me, a
big smile from him, too, and we parted ways.  New York City is a great
place to remain anonymous. 

   I live on the 10th floor of a 15-story building.  Recently just for fun,
and even though I am no longer drinking, I have been flashing the windows
when it is dark out.  It's winter, so it gets dark early.  It began
innocently, when I got undressed in the bedroom, and then the phone rang.
The phone is in the living room, with its big picture windows.  Dressed in
my bra and panties, I went to answer the phone. 

   It was my sister and we had a nice and fairly long conversation.  As we
were talking I gradually realized I was on display.  The chair was facing
the window and the blinds were up.  Nobody from the street could see in,
since I am too high up.  However all the lights were on so anyone from a
neighboring building, particularly from a floor higher than mine, could
easily see me sitting there, talking on the phone in my bra and panties. 

   I pretended the bra was uncomfortable (which was true to a small extent,
anyway), put the phone down while my sister was blabbing away, and took it
off.  I picked up the phone again and continued with the call, now topless,
sitting in the window.  I felt myself getting aroused.  I felt my cunt
through my panties and yes, it was definitely wet.

   I made a habit of speaking on the phone in that chair only, and always
being topless when I did.  I did it in the day as well as the night, even
though it was unlikely anyone could see me during the daytime.  It was a
gesture of vestigial exhibitionism.

   This made me nostalgic for an earlier life.  But those days were gone. I
knew that.  A week later I was in the local coffee house reading a novel
and letting a cup of coffee get cold.  There are quite a few coffee houses
in my neighborhood but I always favor one in particular for some reason.  A
nice looking guy entered around my age, maybe a little older.  All the
tables were taken, and he used that as an excuse to ask if he could share
my table. 

   I say he used it as an excuse, because there were lots of single
occupancy tables, but he chose mine.  I was by far the most attractive
woman at any of the tables (modesty aside).  Also most of the other girls
were in their were late teens or in their early 20s. 

   We got to talking.  He had often seen me in this coffee house he said,
but this was the first time he had the chance to introduce himself.  We hit
it off, and I agreed to go to dinner with him that very night.  At dinner I
passed on the alcohol, but was able to flirt seriously even sober.  It was
harder for me to do, even a lot harder, and I was out of practice, but it
helped a lot that he was clearly interested in me. 

   He had been single for a year after a brutal breakup.  No children were
involved.  That's an issue when you're dating men in their 30s.  He was off
women the way I was off alcohol, but something clicked he said when he saw
me repeatedly in the coffee house. 

   Of course, it is inevitable.  Fate is like that.  He lived in the
building across the street on the 12th floor.  I idly wondered if he had
seen me topless on home on the phone, but I did not really want to know. 

   Making small talk he told me there was a young woman exhibitionist
living in the building across the street from him.  He guessed she was in
her early 20s.  I liked when he said that.  He had seen me, but he did not
know it was I he saw.

   He continued, telling me that she sometimes spoke on the telephone
topless.  He also told me she had gorgeous breasts, as only a teenager can.
He quickly added he knew it was wrong to look at her, but he could not help
himself.  Every night he sat by the window, hoping to see her. 

   I said, "New York is a big city.  All sorts of people live here, no
doubt even exhibitionists.  And voyeurs." I smiled as I added that last
tease. 

   I told him not to worry.  Being a voyeur like that was harmless enough.
If the woman did not want to be seen, she could draw her curtains or lower
her blinds, right?  I told him he should enjoy the show; pretend he was at
the movies.

   "I could make some popcorn," he said.

   "Exactly," I replied. 

   He was taking a risk telling me all this; I could have been grossed out
had I not been the girl in question.  I wondered, was he hinting that it
was me?

   I asked if he had bought binoculars for a better look?  He laughed and
said he was not really a voyeur; it was just that this woman had perfect
breasts.  He said, "Actually, maybe I will.  So far I have not been able to
make out her face."

   I replied, "Are you sure it's her face you are interested in?"

   "You're right," he said.  "I could only be disappointed after seeing
your face here at the table with me tonight.  Susie, you are a beautiful
woman."

   I blushed and demurred my eyes.  Very feminine and coquettish, I know.
But hey, I'm a girl. 

   He continued, "I'm sure your breasts are just as lovely as hers are,
too."

   I said, "Well, life is full of surprises.  Let's change the subject." He
immediately realized he had been inappropriate, especially on a first date.
But I was wondering if he already I was the mystery woman.  Perhaps he is
just playing with me.  That's okay, I thought.  If he does know, then
obviously he does not mind, and is not grossed out.  That's good, because I
was falling for him already.  Hard.

   New York has strange conventions.  I don't tell men where I live until I
know them well.  I never do on a first date.  So when the evening ended I
had him walk me to the subway station.  We kissed goodnight.  I liked the
way he kissed, so when he asked I gave him my cell phone number and said I
hoped I would see him again.  He said, "Definitely, Susie!" and he kissed
me again. 

   As a parting gesture, I said, "Check out your exhibitionist across the
street tonight at precisely midnight." Then I ran down to catch my train
which I heard rumbling into the station.  It did not go to my apartment,
but to the East Side.  This was a dodge.  I live on the West Side.  But
this is also routine for me; there are some strange men out there. 

   I got off at Grand Central Station, where there it's easy to catch a
cab, and grabbed a taxi to go home.

   I got home at 11:30pm and turned on all the lights.  I undressed until I
was nude in my bedroom, and at precisely midnight I walked into the main
room where the telephone is.  I walked back and forth naked, so he could
see my boobs jiggle, and then I finally simply stood still, naked, giving
the window (and him, if he were watching) a full frontal.  I held it a few
minutes, and then smiled a big smile, and waved. 

   He called me a few minutes after I finished, saying he hoped it was not
too late to call.  I took the call and said, "Just a minute while I sit
down and get comfortable." I sat down in the chair and spoke with him while
I was naked.  This made it all the more obvious he was dating his
exhibitionist. 

   He did not however mention the mysterious exhibitionist or how I knew
she would do this tonight at midnight precisely.  But we both knew he knew
it was I, of course.  He invited me out the next night, and I agreed. 

   The next night, when I was back home, I masturbated in the window for
him.  When I was done I blew him some air kisses.  The subsequent night I
inserted a dildo.  Both nights I got a call, and more dates. 

   After the masturbation night, when he called and asked me out and I
accepted, we made some small talk.  He said, "I took your idea and bought a
pair of binoculars."

   I was taken aback.  I said, "Oh.  You did?" Okay, it was not my most
poetic moment. 

   He said, "Yes.  I can almost make out the features of my exhibitionist's
face."

   "I'm beginning to worry about you, my friend.  After what you just told
me about her masturbation, which sounded fairly entertaining, you were
looking at her face?  I would think your attention would have been
elsewhere."

   "Oh yes, it was," he quickly said.  "I masturbated along with her, I
confess." This got me excited.  "But I love to look at a woman's face when
she enjoys sexual pleasure.  It's really quite erotic, you know," he added.

   I said, "Thank you, but I'm primarily into men's faces in those
situations, "I said.  Then I giggled. 

   The fourth night I let him take me home.  He feigned surprise when he
discovered I lived right across the street from him.  He never mentioned
the exhibitionism, and neither did I, but that night I let him undress me
in the same window, just in case he had voyeur friends in his building.  I
think he realized that, and he was into it. 

   A week later he fucked me in that same window.  He took me doggie style.
I had two orgasms, and screamed loudly both times.  He was hooked.  So was
I.

   The next night we each masturbated, facing each other, in the same
window.  Damned if he didn't look at my face, too.  I got aroused doing
this in front of him, and then I realized that doubtless a lot of other men
live in his building across the street.  I climaxed after that thought,
earlier than I had planned.  Then I crawled over, my boobs swaying around
below me as I crawled.  I opened my mouth, and helped him to climax, too.

   A romance blossomed around our shared secret.  A year later we were
married, and now as I write this I am a new mother.  It's funny, his name
is Mike, the same name as my first true love who turned me into an
exhibitionist and was a misogynist and did horrible things to me.  Of
course, he also taught me all I know about sexual perversions.  There is
still a lot to learn out there, but a girl does not have to know
everything.

   In contrast, my new true love, my new Mike, is a loving, wholesome man.
He enjoys my exhibitionism, but differently.  He is not misogynistic, so
much as simply accepting.

   We never discuss my exhibitionism, but he seems OK with me being naked
occasionally in front of the windows.  He even repeated fucking me in the
window a few times.  He finds unspoken ways to encourage me, when I show
myself off a little, later the sex is inspired. 

   At times I wonder how people will respond to possible sneak peaks of my
private areas, which I am pushing a baby carriage?  I figure I will start
by wearing think yoga pants without panties, and bend over my baby from
time to time.  Mike does not know about this idea.  I don't need to tell
him everything, do I?

   Mike has no idea how weird and sexually out of control I was in my early
20s and that more recent fateful day in Montauk.  I figure he does not have
to know.  Still, I worry I might have a relapse some day.  It's deep down
in me, and I cannot get rid of my slutty urges.  But I have free will, and
so far I have successfully resisted them.

   My new Mike is a professor of literature, and he has started a
subspecialty of studying the use of exhibitionism in novels in the 19th
century.  We know why he chose that topic. 

   He tells me his classes are popular, especially with the coeds.  He
wants me to give a special lecture on digital privacy.  Nobody could do
that better than I, but so far I have resisted. 

   My sister Sarah and my parents have met him, and so far I have kept both
my sister and my mother under control, thank goodness.  Our child is a
beautiful baby girl.  I will have a talk with her about the birds and the
bees like we all do, but as she matures, and before she heads off to
college, I have a lot more to tell her about.  Just in case it is genetic,
you know?  Time will tell. 

   ****************

   Coda: Some of you may be wondering what became of my former lover
Philip. He is clearly an ambitious, evil man, willing to use anyone to get
ahead.  Once he no longer had me to use and abuse, he started farming out
the sexual services of his beautiful wife Ursula, the mother of his
children.  He did this to get ahead, and because behind it all, he hates
women. 

   They got divorced, and Ursula took the children to Sweden, as far from
Philip as she could get them.  He found a new slut, and continued his evil
ways.  Now is a senior vice president of his bank. 

   Life is not Hollywood.  Assholes often come out on top.  Philip is one
of them.  There are, however, hackers who can find out if he is embezzling.
As it turns out, he is.  He is not only ambitious, but greedy.  The
authorities have not yet learned of his criminal behavior, but it seems to
me they will soon.  They may get some help...