Recently any thought of visiting Brie's house gets my heart racing, a rush of blood to my head and a tingling between my legs. My head is still reeling from last weekend. I can't stop thinking about it, but I can't talk to anyone about it either. So I thought I should write it down.
I'm normally a little shy and I'm not showy with my sexuality like many girls my age. Like, I don't have an Instagram account showing off my legs and bikini covered crotch or anything like that. I do notice some of my friend's dad's looking at me and I get a little thrill from it sure, and I like the attention, but I get really nervous too. I don't want them to think I'm cheap or slutty. So I don't know what came over me that day. It still leaves me breathless to think of it.
I was spending the day with Brie as we often do on the weekend. We both live at home and my place is kind of far away, now that my family moved suburbs, so we often base at one of each other's homes. Even if we have something else to do on our own during the day, we'll stay over and come evening we get to hang. It's nice crossing paths throughout the day when we have things on. We love to do things together and her dad is super chill, and my parents like her too. It's like having a sister, or a flat mate.
This day was pretty standard as far as our routine goes, an early yoga session flexing our lithe, athletically curvy 19-year-old bodies on the back deck, catching up on the week's events, talking general girl stuff. While mid-posture a couple of times I had noticed a shadow move across one of the upstairs windows. I thought it might have been her dad, Mr Stenlake. I was wondering if he was watching us. It was a fleeting thrill, but I pushed it down. Don't be gross. What a perverted thought.
It wasn't until we were in the kitchen making a smoothie that I saw some complete stranger who must have been in his forties, pass the doorway. "What the fuck, who is that"? I urgently whispered to Brie. I thought someone had broken in.
She laughed, "oh, that's Jarrad. He's a long time friend of my dad's. He's in town for a couple of weeks on business and Dad invited him to stay. He's cool. You'll hardly see him, he's out most of the time." She brushed it off and we carried on talking. I pretty much forgot all about him.
Around mid-morning Brie had to go out. A last-minute call from her boss calling her into work to cover for a few hours. It was a bummer, but I had an assignment due soon anyway, so it was a good chance to get ahead and get it done. I had a quick shower and changed into a skirt and slouchy kind of linen shirt. Perfect for romping around the house and I was on my own, so I skipped the bra. I love the feeling of my braless breasts moving a little as I walk. They're not huge balloons. No, they swell like a C cup, hanging just a little, with a nice curve up to the nipples that crown their perky shape. If I wear a t-shirt without a bra, the shirt hangs from the nipples, just barely touching my flat tummy. I think it looks really sexy, but I'm too shy to go out or let anyone see me like that. In my yoga gear, my girls are firmly strapped in place. But like this, they jiggle a bit as I walk, which feels nice. With this shirt, the fabric rubbing lightly across my nipples felt a little naughty.
I wandered down to Mr Stenlake's study, knowing I was the only person home so his computer would be free. I didn't bring mine as I certainly wasn't planning to do any work this weekend. Brie's dad was pretty relaxed and had no problem with me using his computer to check emails and what not, so I figured it was a good idea.
The door was open and as I stepped in I could see the screen was on, like someone had just been using it, which I thought was odd but put it out of my mind. I sat down pulling in the seat and reached up, flicked my long blonde hair back and shook it out a little to relax. Then I heard a "ping" and a message appeared in the open window. When I looked there was a whole string of messages, and replies coming back - hang on.
"What is thi... oh my gosh"!
My heart started beating a mile a minute. It was a chat window, but it was sexy chat! Like someone was chatting on this computer. Was it Mr Stenlake? what a perve. I had no idea he was like that. Curious though, I couldn't pull my eyes away. I cautiously started reading the messages.
It was a chat for 'Younger women for older men' and he was chatting to a girl called 'SexySitter' who said she was 19. There was some small talk, then it started becoming flirty and suggestive. She was describing her clothes, and he had replied he'd like to slide his hand up her skirt. A little voice in the back of my mind was wondering if he thinks like this when he looks at me. And to my horror, I was getting a little tingly between my legs just thinking about that.
She was describing clothes kind of similar to mine. The skirt was lightweight, mid-thigh and flared out a little, so it sashayed when she walked. She was wearing a button up blouse and no bra. Then I heard someone cough at the door. I swung around in a flash - Busted!