I went to college after a few years of working to make tuition money, so I was 22 when I left home. Moved across the country, started school, and made my way in the world like a big girl. And I changed a lot in that first year. Made new friends, went to parties and clubs, fucked a dozen different girls, guys, and one very steamy threesome. It was incredible, and I finally felt more like myself. My clothes got, to use a simple term, slutty as hell and on a whim I started wearing short skirts without panties. Something in the back of my mind loved that little thrill of the risk of flashing someone, but I didn’t realize just how much I craved that thrill until the summer after my first year.

I decided not to go back home and to find a job in my new city. I wasn’t ready to give up my new self yet. I searched around and ended up interviewing for a waitress job at a spot near my apartment that I had been to a bunch with my friends. The manager told me to dress like I was going for a night out and I took my assignment seriously. I showed up in a very short skirt, fishnet stockings, and a top that was essentially nothing more than a fancy bra. I’m 90% sure the manager got hard in the first five seconds of the interview. This once again got me just as turned on and I was definitely nervous that my lack of panties would be obvious if I got too wet. But the nerves just kept turning me on more and more. The guy had me serve some drinks to the folks in there after asking me questions and I could feel the eyes on the hem of my skirt, all hoping that they’d see something a little extra. My heart was pounding, I could feel how wet I was getting, and I just prayed that I’d make it through the interview.

It went really well, honestly, and I was starting to realize just how much I needed that attention, so I pushed it a bit further. On the last round of drinks I delivered, I made sure to bend over the table to set one of them down. My tits aren’t huge or anything, but a nice handful that tried desperately to spill out of my top right in one guy’s face while my skirt rode up a bit at the back. I felt the slightest breeze on my pussy, and I know that anyone looking would see my wet lips poking out of my fishnets. That moment, though only a couple of seconds, lasted fucking forever in my mind. I wanted to cum on the spot. A feeling that wasn’t helped when the guy with my tits in his face tucked a ten dollar bill into my cleavage.

I went back to the manager, who had been part of the audience for my pussy flash, and he hired me on the spot. I knew that he was probably just trying to fuck me, but to my surprise, that was fine by me. I’d been fairly conservative growing up, and suddenly being an object of desire was setting me on fire in a whole new way. I left that interview dripping down my thighs, the tip still tucked between my tits, and I knew I’d never make it home. I ended up ducking into a coffee shop and running to the bathroom where I fingered myself hard and fast. Within barely a minute I was biting my lip to stop from screaming as I came harder than I ever had before. I swear I can still feel my legs shaking from that one. When I came out, it was like everyone in the shop knew what I’d done. Their eyes on me, on my outfit, had me turned on and embarrassed in equal measure. And I loved it. I bought a coffee with my boob money, dashed home, and used my hitachi to cum four more times that day.

Then it was time for my first shift as a waitress. I still hadn’t come to fully understand what was waking up inside of me, but I sure as hell was excited to find out. I needed to know if I was going to get that wet every time so I figured day one would go better without a skirt. Dressed myself in a pair of black shorts that hugged my ass and pussy VERY tightly, thigh high socks, and a white crop top that showed my nipples a bit without a bra. I’ve got pierced nipples, so if I don’t wear a bra you can pretty much guarantee that you’ll see my nipples through my shirts. When I arrived at the bar, my heart was already racing from the memory of my interview. It was racing even more when the manager paired me up with another girl to train me. This girl was basically designed to be the most attractive person in my eyes. Short hair, petite, an ass that could make grown men faint, tattoos, and a smile that still makes me weak in the knees.

I did my very best to keep things professional, to learn what all I had to do. And I did. But I also spent a lot of that first shift trying to figure out if this girl was wearing panties under her skirt. Suffice it to say that I spent the whole shift soaking through my shorts. So many guys were staring at me, fucking me in their minds, and I drank it in like a fucking drug. I did get an answer to the panties question I had about the girl training me. Given how short she was, she had to literally climb up onto the back bar to reach bottles at the top when we needed new ones. The second time this happened I was standing beneath her and got a good, long look at her ass swallowing a tiny thong as she passed down a bottle. I’m not totally sure how I held out through my shift, but I went home that day and barely had my apartment door closed before I was half naked and fingering myself. It was heaven. I got so turned on at work and even got paid for it in pretty generous tips.

Two weeks of this went by. Getting way too horny at work, rushing home, and cumming like a horny teenager. I started getting riskier with my outfits, again seeking out that thrill of the risk. My shirts were low cut or see through, or just simply tiny. My skirts never reached lower than my ass. And my panties stayed safely in my closet as I couldn’t help giving those little glimpses. The girl that trained me starting flirting a bit and we had a lot of fun teasing customers together too.

The first true exhibitionist experience came on July 1st which, for those who don’t know, is Canada Day. (Yes I’m Canadian) We were all asked to wear something appropriate for the holiday. I took it as a chance to push things even further. I needed more of whatever I’d discovered. I showed up to work that day in a white, fishnet dress. The sort of thing that hugs every curve and hides absolutely nothing. Beyond this dress (if you can even call it a dress) I was wearing maple leaf pasties over my nipples and a pair of bright red panties that were just barely enough to cover my pussy while getting swallowed by my ass. The moment I set foot in the building I could feel every eye in the place on me. My hips swayed as I walked, my tits jiggled just right, and I knew it was the right decision because I already wanted to cum.

My coworker was wearing a red and white bikini with a skirt that was barely more than a strip of fabric so she was nearly as on display as I was. It was glorious to see. We started our shift like normal and I did my best to ignore the fact that I was nearly naked. But I couldn’t. I knew my tits looked amazing, the little pasties barely larger than my nipples. Every time I bent over, I knew my pussy was trying to make my thong disappear. And the mesh dress did nothing to hide all of this. I flirted with customers like normal, and the place was packed for the holiday so I had to basically grind my way through the crowd. I got groped so much that it was like being in an orgy. But it wasn’t just the customers that were going a little extra wild. My coworker was flirting and teasing with me more than ever. Little touches in front of customers, pressing against me to let people pass, things like that. Now I’m hopeless at reading signals, but this girl was basically writing “fuck me” on her forehead. At one point she was leaning over a table to deliver drinks and I spanked her playfully as I passed. The little screaming moan she let out was nothing short of whorish and I stopped dead to watch her face turn bright red.

She turned to me and asked for a word in the back. Certain that I’d fucked up and gone too far, I followed her through the curtain separating the bar from the back office. Our manager was working the bar, so it was empty. No sooner had the curtain swung shut than her tongue was in my mouth. I didn’t even have time to consciously think about what was happening, my body just reacted. I pinned her to the wall, no regard for the fact that people were only inches away on the other side of the curtain. Her bikini and skirt hit the floor as she played with my tits, our lips never parting as I moaned into her mouth. I’d been with girls, and I’d gotten good at eating pussy. I was all ready to do just that when she pushed me back. I stumbled a bit and hit the desk, sitting on it hard. I got a moment of a perfect view of her. Perky little tits, womb tattoo, perfect smooth pussy before she was on her knees in front of me.

My thong ended up hanging off one ankle as she went to work. I was already soaked from the attention like usual, so her fingers slid inside of me so easily as her tongue assaulted my clit with such precision that I genuinely had to clap a hand to my mouth to stop from screaming in pleasure. This tiny girl was turning me into a moaning mess with two fingers and her tongue right there in our boss’s office. Anyone could have walked in so easily and I remember staring at the curtain, my heart leaping every time it fluttered from someone brushing against it. It was hot. As. Fuck. But soon two fingers weren’t the only thing inside of me. Her tiny hand and my soaked pussy turned out to be the perfect combination. She looked up into my eyes as her fist vanished into my pussy. Now I wasn’t a virgin by any means, but the cocks and toys I’d taken weren’t huge or anything. I was being stretched out like never before and pain mingled with pleasure in the most seductive cocktail. I couldn’t make a sound if I wanted to. I merely flopped back on the desk as I screamed silently. Breathing simply didn’t work in light of this overwhelming pleasure. No conscious thought flew through my mind as this girl used me like a hand puppet.

It turned out that stripping her naked first was a smart move because as her hand left me and she leaned in to eat me out, I squirted for the first time in my life. I fucking drenched her face and tits as I moaned and squirmed like a whore in heat. I don’t know how long my orgasm lasted, I halfway blacked out, but next thing I remember was her cleaning up and getting dressed again. That hardly seemed fair. I stop up from the desk, legs shaking, and came at her from behind. I wrapped my arms around her, one hand teasing her nipples while the other slid down the front of her bikini bottoms. My fingers hooked into her perfectly and I hit her g-spot almost at once. When she moaned, I moved my hand to cover her mouth while I fingered her. She was facing the curtain again, barely six inches from it. I started whispering in her ear, a constant stream of dirty talk. I told her the things I’d wanted to do to her since day one, reminded her that anyone could walk in right now and see us, called her my little slut. It worked too. The reminders that we were somewhere very nearly public and the mild degradation made her pussy clench on my fingers. I bit her neck, kissing to soothe the pain immediately after. I was fingering her so hard that she was on her tiptoes, nearly being lifted off the ground. As a matter of fact, when she came a few minutes later, crying out into my hand, her legs curled up and I was holding her off the ground by the pussy and one hand on her mouth.

We did our very best to clean up, trying to make it look like we hadn’t just fucked, but I’m convinced that people knew. I was still so wet and she’d creamed her bottoms pretty good. So the rest of our shift was spent with the pair of us trying to keep straight faces as customers stared and flirted. When closing time came about, we offered to clean up and close the bar. All the work was done in record time and we ended up spending hours on one of the couches in the bar, just chatting and cuddling and teasing. I told her everything, all about how I had been getting outrageously horny from the attention at work. She, in turn, suggested I was an exhibitionist, something she dabbled in as well. Turns out she was right, and that was just the start of it all.