Case History 7
SUBJECT; Phyllis F. AGE; Nineteen
INTERVIEW ONE
When Phyllis first came into my office, I was impressed that she looked the very picture of a girl on her way to becoming a happy housewife.
Her long, brown hair was neatly trimmed and her skirt was neatly pressed. She might have easily lost ten pounds, but she carried her weight well. The fullness in her hips had a very sensual quality.
I had to be impressed with her neatness. Everything about her was well appointed and calm. I was startled when I heard what was going on inside of her. I discovered that this lovely young woman was really a raging volcano.
I will try to be honest with you, Doctor. It is so easy to tell lies, especially about my sexual fantasies.
Let me rephrase that. I don't exactly tell lies, I just don't exactly tell the truth. Especially not to George, my husband.
You see, I was always a good girl. No boy even expected much of me. I was the kind of girl that just gave a boy a kiss on the first date. I let him feel me up on the third date and I never even touched his cock until we were going steady.
Of course, during all that time I was dying to get fucked. I was frigging my cunt every night, and my panties were covered with gooey cunt juice by the time I got home from a hot date. But I stayed good and I never let men do too much with me.
George never even got a chance to fuck me until we were engaged. When he did that was the time that I lost my cherry. Honestly, it was all that I could have hoped for. George's cock is long and thick and really stretched out my pussy lips when he first put it in there.
To this day he still fucks me every night, and we've been married for more than a year. There's really no reason that I should go out looking for more, but I do.
What my real fantasy is, is exposing myself.
I dream of walking down the street naked and of everybody looking at me.
I've always had a beautiful body. I had the best developed set of tits in the whole high school and I've still kept my trim waist and curved hips. George loves to fuck in front of a mirror so that we can watch ourselves. I especially love that, because I love the fact that he's watching me.
Sometimes I'm standing in a crowded elevator with a bunch of men, and I start thinking of what it would be like if I were to pull up my dress and pull down my panties so that they could all see my twat.
Just thinking about me always gets me off. By the time that I get out of the elevator my panties are all juiced up.
Sometimes I go around the city with no panties at all. I know that I would never dare to pull up my dress in a crowded street, but with no panties on it gives me the strange knowlege that if I should ever give in to the urge to pull up my dress, it will be a very easy thing to do.
When I was in high school, I used to take forever in the girl's locker room after gym class. Even though there were only girls there and no boys, I still loved showing off my body.
I knew that I was the sexiest girl there. I looked over the other girls when they were in the showers and it was clear that I had the firmest and shapeliest breasts, as well as the most lush patch of dark brown pubic hairs and the nicest ass.
The girls in school used to complain that I was stuck up and snooty, but the boys never seemed to complain.
At night I would turn off the lights and finger-fuck myself under the covers of my bed. I would remember the way that I paraded around in the locker room, giving everybody a chance to see my naked twat.
I would imagine some mix-up where I would strip naked in a locker room and then discover that it was the boy's locker room. All the boys would appear and would get to see me. Part of the fantasy would have me pretending to be embarrassed and trying to cover over my bare twat. But I would always do a lousy job of covering my snatch, so that all the boys would get a good look.
Actually, even though I had a reputation for being a 'good girl' in high school, I used to give the boys a lot of chances to grab peeks at me.
When I knew that there was a boy sitting opposite me and that he was looking, I would accidentally spread my legs so that he could look up my dress and see my panties.
Sometimes I would inadvertently bend over so that a boy could see my panties when my short skirt billowed up. I would also do that when I had a scoop necked blouse on. The boys would be able to see my bra, when the blouse flopped down.
That was in the days when I was still wearing bras and panties. But it's okay because I know the way high school boys are. I know how hot they got over a shot of my panties or my bra.
Sometimes I would see a boy put his hand in his pocket and try to juggle around his hard cock after he got a glance at my beaver.
They did it all the time!
I didn't mind at all.
I'm a nice girl and not supposed to know what the boy was doing.
I got away with quite a lot of things under the guise of being a nice girl.
I guess that this whole thing started when I was a little girl.
When I was only nine years old I saw my older sister coming out of the shower. I suppose that I had seen her hundreds of times before that, but for some reason it affected me then and there. Perhaps it was some hormonal thing that was happening in my body and was making me more aware of the flesh around me.
I was very aware of the girl's beautiful tits and her patch of wispy and youthful pubic hair. She was drying herself and she shouted, "What are you staring at, Phyllis? Are you some kind of lezzie?"
I ran from the bathroom crying. I had no idea what her words meant, but I knew that they were full of vindictiveness.
It's funny as I think back on it, that I grew up much prettier than my sister. Her tits stayed rather small, although they did seem enormous to a nine year old child.
I was determined to find out about bodies.
There was a boy who lived down the street. His name was Harold, and although he was one year older than I he would sometimes play with me.
Harold and I were out in the garage looking through the old toys that I had there, when I decided to take the initiative with the boy.
"What do you have down there?" I asked the ten year old, pointing at his crotch.
"What do you mean?" Harold asked defensively.
"Do you have a hole down there?"
"None of your business!" he said.
"I'll tell you what I've got, if you tell me what you've got."
This offer was too good for Harold to turn down. "Okay," he said, "but you first."
"Why should I go first? I asked you first."
"But it was your idea." Harold was adamant. "Unless you tell me first, I won't tell you nothing!"
"Well," I gritted my teeth, "I've got a hole."
"Okay," he blushed, "I've got a thing that hangs down."
"What does it look like?" I was anxious to know.
"What does yours look like?"
I wasn't even interested in the fact that I had asked him first. I went right ahead and told him. "It has these pink lips that kind of come out a little bit, and it's what I pee from. Now what about yours?"
"I don't know," he shrugged his shoulders. "I can't really describe it."
"That's no fair!" I pouted. "I told you all about mine." Then I had a thought, "You oughta let me see yours."
"I can't let a girl see my thing!"
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I coyly said.
He insisted that we both had to open our pants at exactly the same moment. He counted to three as both of our sets of youthful eyes were riveted on each other's crotch. Then I revealed the few inches of my pink and white flowered panties, as he revealed a few inches of his standard white undershorts.
Then, still staring at each other to be certain that neither of us exposed an inch more than the other did, we slid our pants down until they were around our thighs.
Harold was a bit chubby, but to tell the truth I also had a bit of baby fat on my legs.
I can still remember the knot that was in my stomach as I put my fingers in the elastic waistband of my little girl panties. I watched to be sure that Harold put his fingers in his own elastic waistband.
"On your honor, you're really going to pull yours down?" He asked hesitantly.
I smiled and nodded. I should have screamed at him, "Yes, you clod! I'm dying to pull them down! I want you to see my pussy!" Because that was the truth.
He counted to three and we both went through with it. His little, flaccid penis did not look very attractive or appealing to me. He was bug-eyed. He got down on his knees, totally fascinated by the pink skinned and hairless pouting pussy lips.
Just at that moment my mother called from the back door, saying, "What are you children doing in there?"
Both of us rushed to pull up our pants and underpants. I called back, "Nothing, mom!"
And she shouted, "Then I want you out of there and in the sunshine!"
To this day I am not certain if my mother had a special x-ray vision, or if she was just saying the same thing she said every other day. To our guilty childhood ears we heard our jail sentences being read off to us.
We were outside in a flash and we both had our pants pulled back up. But I know that I was certain that I had guilt all over my face and that I probably had my pants on backwards.
Harold must have felt a similar guilt because he didn't see me or play with me for months afterwards. When we did start seeing each other again, I was already ten years old and we never mentioned anything of my nine year old indiscretion.
For three years after that I had tried to forget about sex. Whenever I was in a dressing room situation I was always anxious to get glances at other women's bodies. I also was always proud to display my slim and athletic body in any situation like that.
It was when I was twelve that I had my next opportunity to expose myself. Once again it was with Harold.
My mother had gotten a job and my older sister was going to the late shift at the high school, so I had the whole house to myself when I got home from school.
Even though Harold was a year ahead of me in school, he was never very good at math. He came over for me to help him study for a test. As it happened, we were both in the same level math class and we both had the same textbook.
As usually happens with kids on a rainy afternoon in a basement, we easily got distracted from the math studies. We studied for about a half an hour, which was all that was really needed anyway.
Then we began to play cards. I had learned to play poker and was winning all of the wooden matches from Harold's pile.
Harold was getting tired of the game, but I was excited over playing poker and so I wanted to continue.
"It's no fun playing for matches," he complained.
"Why not?"
"Because with matches you don't care whether you win or lose."
"That's why people usually play for money," I explained. "Do you have any money with you?"
"I have forty-five cents, but that's my lunch money for tomorrow." He said.
"Well," I began coyly, "We could play for clothes."
"For clothes?" The boy was astonished. "Sure, didn't you ever hear of strip poker?"
I replied.
Harold did not have to be coaxed into this.
After a few hands, Harold was sitting in his jockey shorts and I was sitting in a pair of lime green panties and my training bra. I was very pleased that I had the bra on. At a time like this, being exposed to a boy, I was glad that I was not stuck in an undershirt like most of the other girls in school.
Since I still had two pieces of clothing on and he had one piece, it looked like I might win. But my next hand was a dud and my training bra had to come off.
I had butterflies in my stomach, but I was also very excited over the boy getting to see my little rosebud nipples. His eyes looked like they would pop out of his head when he saw the little rounded bumps that were my newly developing breasts.
We dealt the next hand, knowing that one of us would be naked when the hand was over.
Which of us would it be?
I lost.
Something deep inside of me was delighted. I stood up and pulled my green panties down. The cool pastel was a sharp contrast to my young and pink flesh. I had a few wisps of pubic hair. Even though the hairs were brown, their sparseness made them look golden blonde in the light.
Harold whistled through his teeth.
He had hardly taken a look when he was up and pulling his clothes on. He was already pulling his pants over the protruding rod that was in the front of his underpants, before I even had my panties pulled back on.
"What's the matter?" I asked, feeling very hurt by his curt manner.
"I've gotta go home," Harold mumbled.
"Don't you wanna play another game and give me a chance to win?" I asked.
"No!" he answered, and was already up the stairs and out the door before I even got my pants back on.
Thinking back on that little incident that happened all those years ago, I imagine that he went home to jerk off. He probably couldn't hold onto his cum much longer once he had actually seen my pussy.
Even though I hadn't even gotten a chance to see his cock, that scene was such a turn-on to me, that I fingerfucked myself for the first time.
Even though I was so young when that happened, I still get horny every time I think about it.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Phyllis called to cancel our next appointment, I refused to let her. I knew that she was frightened to go on with her story, and I would not permit her to put it off.
At our next meeting she looked a little frazzled. Her hair was not as neatly combed and she looked as if she hadn't slept well the previous night'. Even so, she was still a very appealing woman.
I noticed that she kept spreading her legs as she sat opposite me. Considering the short skirt that she was wearing, it was easy to see that she wore no panties. In the name of professional discipline I tried not to look too much.
Well, Doctor, the last meeting with you was easy compared to this. I mean, to tell you the things that I did when I was twelve years old was a simple matter.
All twelve year olds do little naughty things, but they grow out of them. I already told you about the things I did in high school. That was mostly just parading around naked in the girl's locker room and giving boys a chance to peek up my skirt or down my blouse.
Now that I'm a happily married woman I feel all of these tensions piling up on me.
I told you before that it was very easy to lie to my husband, or at least to tell him half the truth. I can give you loads of examples.
The most important example relates to all of this. He's always making little jokes or remarks about the fact that I parade around the house half-dressed. I tell him that I just find it more comfortable to be that way.
He has no idea that I get a sexual thrill out of my exposing myself.
George was shocked that I wanted to sleep naked when he married me. He always wore pajama bottoms and he continued to wear them after we got married. So I ended up buying these very sheer nightgowns that are only one step away from being naked. I toss around at night so that the nightgown ends up rolled up above my boobs.
In the end I am almost sleeping nude, but George is not able to complain about it. After all, it isn't my fault if the nightgown fabric gets all tangled up around my body.
It's not that George is a prude. He is fabulous at fucking and he has a great tongue for eating pussy. It's just that he says that he doesn't want to risk anything happening to me. He's afraid that I'll have some problem if I keep going around half-dressed all the time.
George still doesn't know that some things have already happened because of my insane urge to expose myself.
The first incident was last Summer. There was a teenaged boy who came by three times a week to take care of our lawn. He trimmed the hedges and mowed the lawn.
Chuck was really a very good-looking boy, with sandy hair and a chunky body. I often noticed him staring at my body, and since being stared at was one of my favorite things, I made a point of wearing very skimpy clothes when the boy was around.
Our backyard is very secluded with high shrubs on one side and a brick wall on the other side. The other two sides of the yard are covered by our house and the garage. I always enjoyed sunbathing in the yard.
On the days that Chuck would be working around the yard I would wear my smallest bikini.
One day, George had left a note asking Chuck to take care of some chore in the garage. He wanted the boy to put up some shelves.
When I looked into the garage I saw that Chuck was perspiring terribly. He had taken off his shirt and his pants were slipping down, revealing the top of his underwear.
I could see the front of his pants stiffen out as he saw my lean and sexy body in my tiny bikini. I had brought him a cool drink since I knew that he had to work for quite a while longer in the garage.
I went to the backyard and I put out my lounge chair so that I could lay in the sun. I laid on my stomach and I undid my bra strap so that I wouldn't have any tan line. I closed my eyes and began to doze off.
After about ten minutes I became aware of some slight movement by the garage. Fortunately I did not look up and I did not open my eyes fully. If I had, it would have ruined everything.
My head was facing the direction of the garage. There was one tiny window in the side of the garage and I could see that Chuck was standing by the window and staring intently at me. I looked at him through half-closed eyes so that he would think that I was still asleep.
Even with my eyes half-closed I could tell that his right arm was moving in rapid rhythm. The boy was jacking off as he looked at mme!
Just knowing this made my pussy start to steam up. I did not want him to stop and I did not want him to know that I knew what he was doing. He wanted to be a 'peeping torn' and I was being a female 'flasher'.
I groggily turned onto my side, pretending that I was sound asleep as I did so. Since my bra was undone, my tits were now fully exposed to the garage window. I kept my head lacing the same direction, and I was careful not to open my eyes any further and give away the fact that I was peeping at the peeper.
I saw that Chuck moved away from the window right after I moved. I cursed myself for making the boy stop. Then I saw him move back to the window. His arm began to fiddle with something and then he once again began the rhythmic movements which I knew meant that he was beating his meat.
There was one further thrill I had to give to the boy. I had to be very careful not to scare him away from the window by making him think that I was awake.
Very casually, I kept moving my free arm around. Then I put my arm down so that my hand fell across my crotch. I pressed my hand against my pussy lips, although they were tightly confined in the bikini panties.
Then I began to rub the front of my panties. I rubbed slowly so that the boy could assume that I was doing it in my sleep. Even though I wasn't pressing hard, I soon felt the moisture flowing that meant that I was cumming.
My panties were full of my cunt cream.
I looked through my lazy, half-closed eyes, toward the garage window. The boy was no longer there. I wondered if he had been scared off, or if he had finished what he had set out to do.
It was a half an hour later that Chuck left for the day. He was a little nervous when he left and he did not look me in the face.
As soon as the boy had left, I rushed into the garage. Right underneath the window I found a sticky spot that had been wiped with some rag. The rag had only spread the moist goo around. There was no doubt that it was the boy's cum that he had shot on the wall.
I ran my finger over the shiny spot. It had dried already, but I enjoyed the knowledge of knowing that I had had a masturbation session with my youthful gardener. Even though he thought I was asleep.
The next incident was a little more serious. Actually it was a lot more serious. Masturbating together is nothing compared to getting raped.
I was in the habit of walking around the house wearing a very flimsy robe that was virtually see through. Not only that, but I would usually go around with the robe hanging open.
One morning we had trouble with our telephone, so I was at home waiting for the telephone repairman. I was wearing my robe.
When the repairman came, he was a tall, solidly built, blonde man named Jim. He wore a tee shirt and a pair of dungarees with a million little gadgets hanging around his waist.
It pleased me greatly when his eyes went right through me, or at least his eyes went through my robe. I knew that my rosy nipples always showed up through the sheer layer of fabric.
He went to work at the telephone and I kept walking around, purposely giving him a chance to look at me.
When he was in the middle of working, I had to go to the bathroom. There is a hallway leading down from our living room. The first door on the left is a closet, the second door is the bathroom and the third door is the bedroom.
Right after I sat down on the toilet bowl, the door to the bathroom opened. I screeched and put one hand in front of my naked breasts. I had pulled off my robe when I sat down on the toilet and I had nothing else on.
Jim stood in the doorway. Instead of apologizing for the accidental intrusion into the bathroom, he just stood there and leered at me. He was smiling as he leaned against one side of the bathroom door. One of his hands was playing with the lump that was obviously growing in his pants.
"Pardon me!" I screeched at the man.
"Pardon me, lady," the rugged repairman sneered, "I thought you wanted me to take a look at you!"
Talk about a guy using the right words! I could feel the pussy juices begin to flow. Being exposed and having guys look at me was exactly what I always wanted. Jim was now blatantly ogling my body and was rubbing his hard penis against the rough denim of his pants.
I tried to muster whatever dignity is possible while sitting on the John, and I said, "Okay, you've had your look. Now you can get out of here!"
Jim cupped his hard cock against the fabric of his pants. "What about this?" He barked, "I'm not gonna go without you takin' care of my cock!"
I leaped from the toilet seat and grabbed my robe. I tried to put it in front of me, as if covering my naked body would have helped anything at that moment.
Jim was too fast for me. He pounced upon me and he slammed my body down against the hard tile floor of the bathroom.
I felt all of that rough denim pressing against the soft down of my pussy hairs. I smelled the foul sweat on the man's body and his tee shirt as he pressed his body against my body.
He was so strong that he was able to hold me down on the floor with one hand while he unzipped his fly with the other. I regretted never having the bathroom carpeted, since my skin was now crawling against the chilly feel of the tiles.
His cock head was soon pushing at my pussy lips. He pushed in and pushed deep. Shoving and grunting and groaning, his cock entered the full length of my cunt.
I was split apart. I had always thought that my husband had a large penis, but I was startled at the size of this man's enormous cock. It wasn't so much the length as the width that made it so impossible to take.
He could hardly budge it once it was inside of me. He began to pull out of me so that he could begin fucking, but as he pulled back I felt as if he was pulling my body inside out. The supple flesh inside of my cunt was being tugged and dragged along with the wide penis.
Soon Jim was able to get his cock into action. He pulled out and shoved in and he did both with enormous force and power.
I felt his body drench with sweat as he fucked me at a breakneck pace. He was fucking my pussy viciously and brutally. Every jab into me hurt me, but he did not care.
Finally I felt the cock grow even larger than it had been. He slammed into me so deeply that I screamed out in pain once more. I felt a hot moisture splash at my insides. He was shooting his load.
"I'm cumming!" He yelled. "I'm shooting my white hot load up your damn cunt!"
A moment later he was lying on top of me as if he were a dead weight. His clothes were completely drenched in his sweat. He pulled his messy cock out of my battered pussy. Standing up, he stuffed the huge piece of meat back into his pants and then he zipped up.
The next thing I knew he was leaving the ahouse. The telephone had already been fixed.
I had not cum during our fucking. In every sense I had been an unwilling rape victim. Much as I had enjoyed his seeing me naked, I had not wanted to fuck and he had forced that on me.
I've kept this whole thing a secret from my husband. My fear is that other terrible things will happen to me due to my urge to expose my body.