I was looking back at you to see you looking back at me
I love Massive Attack, and these lyrics from “Safe From Harm” speak to the blossoming exhibitionist in me. After the last sex party, in which Maestro and I must have spent half of it fucking in the public area, I’ve been thinking about how a private person like me ended up getting off on having people watch me. We’re also on our second DNF, so I’m being particularly pensive and introspective. More than usual.
“I’ll move the whole world for you just so you have more room to spread your legs.”
He whispered this to me in bed last month, before we decided to check out the gym in the building. I’ve always been quite flexible, which means we can try different positions – it also means taking time to stretch regularly. This was a significant day too for my inner exhibitionist. I wore my Lululemon yoga top and boy short black panties. Seriously, it looked like a super hot workout outfit. Since there was no one there, so I played with myself in front of a mirror (as well do my stretches). I stroked my clit and stared at how pink and puffy and glistening it was. Next up was the exercise ball – you can do all sorts of things on top of it to work your abs AND watch yourself in the mirror. And he’s got photos of all of this. We almost got caught, as someone walked in just after I wiped my cum off the bench.
Next up? The shopping mall – I went in nothing except my boots and knee-length coat. At first I felt totally exposed. And cold. The mall was quite empty, which meant lots of places to flash Maestro. Empty exit corridors, parking lots, staircases, a men’s toilet – we found all sorts of semi-public areas for photos. By the time we left I totally forgot I was naked under my coat. My hands were full of bags so I went to press the walk button with my leg – if it wasn’t for Maestro warning me, I would’ve flashed my pussy at a very busy intersection.
That was the day we bought washable markers too. Inspired by some of the body art we saw on Die Antwoord videos, we decided to give it a try. He used my body as his canvas. Modelling is more work than I’d thought – and this won’t be the first time I say this. Remaining perfectly still while someone writes on you isn’t easy. No sneezing or coughing!
Perhaps days like this, where I spent most of it naked, put me on a slow path to body acceptance. Staring at yourself in a multi-mirrored gym, being aware of your flesh and curves as canvas, critically reviewing photos of yourself – it broke down barriers to loving my body. I still think my sexy look is more pinched and frowny than erotic. And in the wrong light, my stomach looks loose and flabby. But you learn what works and what doesn’t, without judgment. Being naked in public isn’t the same as fucking in public, but I’ll look back on this day as significant nonetheless. Plus we’ve framed one of the photos of me in front of the urinal in the men’s toilet, and put it up in our bathroom. So there’s that constant reminder.
And after washing the markers off, we had the most intense fuck. This wasn’t sweet and joyful lovemaking like that morning, it was crazy hard howling at the moon. He gets so much deeper in me when my hips are raised up a bit with a pillow, and oh my stars I was seeing stars. With my feet and legs behind his head and his full body weight on top of me, I could almost suck my own toes. He gets a look, a certain glint in his eye when he’s going to push deeper, deeper inside my pussy. That’s the way we fucked too at the sex party. He brought one of his old silk ties to flog me (that’s another story!) and tie my ankles together above my head.
We’ve got other exhibitionist fantasies that we share. More erotic explorations to discover. The more I write about this to make sense of it all, I realize it’s the ultimate erotic auto-ethnography. Definitive conclusions don’t, and may never exist in this particular journey.
