Exhibitionist Diary – Sunday 15th December 2019

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Well that was an evening I’ll never forget.

I was so excited that I was outside Mel’s door well before four, in a nice pair of heels, my tallest no less, and nothing else. My coat draped over my arm and I was feeling rather sexy (which might have something to do with the nearly two weeks since last orgasm).

The door was opened very quickly for a change, but I almost fainted when the other side of it was an extremely handsome man in a dark suit. He was maybe six foot four and well-built and skin the same colour as Mel’s, and if I was going to be discovered naked in a corridor by anyone then I couldn’t find a better candidate.

I didn’t know whether to cover myself up (which it was too late for), run, or just try to brazen it out. So I ended up just standing there, and he looked me up and down and smiled and said “You must be Kate.” I nodded, and he told me Mel had just gone out for some limes and I was to come in.

He took my coat and it felt really weird being naked in Mel’s flat with a strange man, albeit such a dishy one.

My voice was weak when I asked him how he knew Mel, and I nearly fainted again when he said they’d been seeing each other for about fifteen months. Mel had never mentioned anything, and all this time I’d been wondering if there was something between us and it turns out she’s got a very steady boyfriend.

His name was Jason, and he said he knew my name from Mel but she said I was kind of a client so the rest was confidential. But he did say to expect me to be naked, so I shouldn’t worry about that. It was definitely too late to worry, I thought.

Mel came back a few minutes later. She was in leggings and a top but still looked as sexy as anything even in casual gear. She gave me some things to do, putting out glasses and plates and everything, and then she left me to it while she got ready.

When she came back she was stunning and I felt completely upstaged. She was in a silkly black dress with a split up the side almost to the top of her thigh, and a long v down the front almost to her stomach. Her skin is so amazingly good I’m jealous every time, especially now I know she’s past her mid-thirties. Jason said she looked amazing and they kissed and I felt insanely jealous of both of them, and I also felt strangely invisible, despite being the naked girl in the room.

Then about five the buzzer rang again and Mel said I needed to answer the door from now on. So I did, and there were two teenage girls the other side of it in black skirts and blouses and carrying boxes and they were obviously the caterers, and they couldn’t have been more stunned by a naked woman opening the door. It made me feel like I had the upper hand for once so I told them to come in and showed them to the kitchen, and then remembered something: Mel had promised me a mask.

She went to her bedroom and came back with a beautiful piece of black lace that went over my eyes and the top half of my nose and wrapped around my head. But I wasn’t sure that it really did much to hide my face, not for anyone who knew me. But Mel said I wouldn’t know anyone, and there’d be no photos, so not to worry.

My heart was in my mouth when the first guest buzzed and I opened the door. It was a couple who looked older than Mel and Jason but probably weren’t, and although they looked me up and down and smiled they didn’t seem particularly surprised by the door being answered by a naked woman. I began to wonder what kind of parties Mel threw.

To be honest, the first part of the evening passed in a blur as I let more people in, refilled glasses, told the two catering girls when to send out various plates of canapés, and generally made sure that nobody wanted for anything.

I would never have dreamt I’d have found myself doing this, not even a week ago, but here I was as a naked hostess at a rather bizarre party.

When I had a moment to pause I noticed the glances at my body, from both men and women, yet from the twenty or so people there not a single one had questioned my nudity. It was all going so amazingly well that I wondered why I’d never turned up nude at a party before, and I wonder if a change of career might even be in the offing – depending on the rate, of course.

But I remember being suddenly shaken back to reality when almost the worst possible thing happened: I realised I recognised someone. It was a guy, maybe early thirties, and really handsome, and he was sitting and talking to another younger guy who noticed me starting at the pair of them. He smiled and the one I recognised looked up at me, but it didn’t seem like he had any clue who I was.

I turned away in case it jogged his memory but even I couldn’t quite work out where I knew him from. And then it clicked: he was one of the clients in the office! Not someone I’d ever had a meeting with, so the chances are he hadn’t seen me, but I remember him now, and I remember thinking he was quite a dish, and also wondering how he had a business big enough to need our services when he was only a few years older than me. I was a bit jealous and also wondering if he was married.

A bit later, across the room, I ended up looking at him again and wondering if, now I was naked, perhaps it would be a good chance to try and make a pass, and then a woman interrupted my daydreaming.

“He’s quite the prettiest of men, isn’t he?” I think she said. I nodded, and probably blushed. It was also a bit of a surprise because nobody else had engaged me in any kind of conversation so far and I was beginning to feel strangely invisible.

The woman introduced herself as Deborah. She looked probably early forties, but had an amazing figure under a black roll-neck sweater and trousers and also the most seductive voice I have ever heard. But I nearly needed picking up off the floor when she said the pretty guy was her husband, because there was obviously more than a decade between them. I guess I shouldn’t be shocked because we all have such double-standards that if the genders were reversed it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, but I don’t know many couples where the woman is so much older.

I was a bit on the back foot when she asked me what I did when I wasn’t being a beautiful naked hostess. (And, yes, she did say that, which put me really on the back foot.) I said I had quite a boring job, and she said why didn’t I leave it, and I said it wasn’t really boring for me, but it wasn’t interesting to talk about. She said I should try her but I didn’t want to give away anything so I just smiled. She asked for my name and I told her it was Alison, because for some reason my neighbours name was the first thing that came into my head. I might have told her my real name but I was so worried if her husband suddenly realised he’d seen me before. I really didn’t trust the mask to hide much at all.

She asked me if I did everything naked, and I said sometimes, and she said “even your boring job?” I said no, because that would make it a lot more fun, and she said maybe I should try it sometime, because what is life except trying to avoid regretting anything on a day-by-day basis? And, my god, she had such a beautiful voice, and I haven’t orgasmed for nearly two weeks, and I was wondering if she was seducing me, and if she was I wondered if I wanted to go along with it.

Once we started talking I couldn’t help but ask her why everyone was so completely non-plussed by having a nude woman at a party. Deborah explained that about five years ago at a party hosted by someone else, but with the same group of people, one of the girls just decided to strip off and dance. Afterwards everyone agreed that parties were much better if there was a naked woman around. And it turned out the girl who got naked had been told she had cancer and had decided to do all the things she’d wanted to do in her life.

It sounded sad, but Deborah pointed her out, and said she’d gone through an against-the-odds complete remission. She had striking blond hair, which Deborah said was the colour it grew back as after chemo, was very thin and had a lot of dark eye make-up on. She was very pretty in a very angular way.

Anyway, the next year the same girl said she wasn’t doing it so they tried to draw lots, but the woman who was meant to do it didn’t turn up. So the next year they ended up hiring someone professional, which is what they’ve been doing ever since.

I said wouldn’t it be a lot more fun if one of the group had stepped up, and Deborah agreed, but said no-one would. So I asked her if she’d thought about it and she said thought about it, yes, but at her age, definitely no. I somewhat rudely asked her age and then I was floored to be told she was forty-nine.

I didn’t pry into how she had such a young husband, and then our chat was interrupted by Jason saying some people were leaving so could I get their coats. And of course he called me Kate, so Deborah asked “Not Alison then?” with a smirk and I just said “not all the time”, hoping to at least cloud the matter, but I don’t think that worked one bit.

I told Deborah it was nice to meet her, and the way she said “My pleasure” made me wish I really could do something that was to her pleasure. I don’t think I’ve ever met a hotter near-fifty-year-old in my life.

But I spent the next ninety minutes helping people with coats, and the caterers had long gone, until there was only Mel and Jason left and a lot of tidying up. But it was nearly two o’clock in the morning and Mel said we should do it tomorrow and that I could sleep in the spare room. I guess I could have walked home, but given that I had nothing except my coat and shoes I didn’t really fancy it, plus I wanted to hang around for as long as possible and hope that something happened.

The bed in the spare room was tiny, but I slept well and could hear movement in the other room when I woke up. I realised then that I still didn’t have a thing to wear and other than wrapping the duvet around myself, which seemed a bit odd given that I’d spent the previous night naked, all I could do was walk out of the room naked. Mel was already up and pointed me to the shower and gave me a towel, and apparently Jason had gone already, so I showered, dried, and came out naked to breakfast (muesli) and coffee that Mel had made.

It almost seemed everyday as I sat there having breakfast with her, Mel dressed in leggings and a top and me in nothing at all (not even my shoes), and Mel didn’t even mention anything about me being nude. I was harbouring hopes of something more fun happening next, now that Jason was gone, but instead Mel said we had better get to work.

And so we tidied the place up, with me still naked. It took maybe two hours in total and afterwards we sat opposite each other on stools by the kitchen counter and drank a fruit juice. It felt very domestic yet in a completely weird way that’s hard to explain, because now I knew that Mel had a partner and all assumptions I’d had about her being a hardcore lesbian were right out of the window.

Then I suggested that maybe we could hang out a bit for the day, maybe go to a gallery or something, or just a walk, and, as a bit of a downer, Mel said she had all kinds of client work to catch up on. And also because I’d done my time last night and this morning I didn’t need to come around to do her accounts tomorrow but we’d do another coaching session next week.

I ended up leaving around lunchtime and came home, and it’s only now that I’ve remembered I’m still under promise not to masturbate. And I won’t even see Mel tomorrow! I don’t think I can last another week.

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