Four writers for the price of one blog
WC: When did you discover you were an exhibitionist?
Celia: Right from the start.
BJ: I knew from the minute I met her.
WC: So, you guys have been together for a while?
BJ & Celia: Yeah.
WC: So who was the instigator?
Celia: I was.
BJ: Definitely her.
WC: And how did that start?
Celia: [She glances at her husband.] All the way back at the beginning?
WC: Whatever you want to share?
Celia: My earliest memory? Being looked at? I always liked it. And I was pretty young when I figured out men were looking at me. I know a lot of women who don’t like it—and I get that—but I guess I’ve been lucky. But what got me hooked? My first orgasm. I used to masturbate on the toilet. We were in a little house and I shared my room with my sister. There was only one bathroom and if I made myself wait before I peed, I’d get wet and masturbate that way. I didn’t come. I didn’t know I could. I’d masturbate until it felt like something was going to break and then I’d pee. My brother’s best friend was always at the house and always looking at me. ‘Your little sis as hot as shit,’ he’d say to my brother, and if my nobody was looking he’d squeeze his crotch and give me a cocky grin. He worked into my fantasies, you know? The way he’d look just sort of got to me. And then it happened. I’d been holding it in one afternoon and ran off to the bathroom. He must have been in the house and heard me. I was sitting on the toilet with my legs wide open and happened to look up. I was already close to peeing when I saw him looking through the crack of the open door. I just stopped dead. I’ll never forget that moment. I just felt caught, like everything I’d ever hidden was exposed. I couldn’t close my legs, like there was this submissive streak I didn’t even know about. I let him see. Sounds perverse doesn’t it. And even though I’d stopped rubbing my clit, I was still going off the cliff knowing he was looking at my pussy. I started saying something, telling him to close the fucking door. [Laughs.] I got one, maybe two words out, and had my first ever orgasm. I must’ve looked like I blacked out. I just remember being watched and the most intense and feeling-good spasm of my life. I just sat there like I’d been electrocuted. He hadn’t budged from the door. That’s when I got up. I had to do something. I got up and started yelling at him. I was pushing him and really giving him hell and he didn’t say a word. He just threw up his hands and then—you know? [BJ laughs.]
Ceila: I almost peed myself. [Laughs.] Just enough slipped out to shut me up. Right? I mean, I’d already been holding it.
WC: What did you do?”
Ceila: Blamed him. Started crying. Called him a pervert. Was trying to hold my pee and run away at the same time. Dared him to tell anybody. Told him I’d tear his balls off and then, you know what he did? He grabbed me and kissed me. [Laughs again.] Jesus Christ. Anybody tell you a story like that, Will? How many first kisses like that? And that look he gave me, no man had ever given me that look before. Then he says: ‘I’m not tellin’ anybody, Celia.’ And when he hears the front door he says, ‘This is between you and me,’ and leaves. That was my first taste of exhibitionism.
BJ: That was before me, by the way.
WC: Could have been a lot worse.
Ceila: Can I just say, Will, how lucky I was? Think what he could have said or done. You sort of imagine your first kiss but this?— this messy, awful, embarrassing kiss?— was a revelation. I remember wanting more. Just this quick realization: there was this new world with different rules. And later when there were boys who weren’t into what I liked or said horrible things, I could tell myself it wasn’t me who was being horrible and that not all guys were jerks. That kiss was a blessing. Be who you are. Sex can be an incredibly positive influence.
WC: I’m glad to hear you say that.
Ceila: That sex can be a positive?”
Ceila: Well sure, popular culture always wraps sex in so much anxiety Somebody’s always punished or something bad’s always going to happen. It’s the whole sex and horror movie cliché. Real life sex isn’t like that. You can walk away with a wonderful experience even if you never see a person again.
BJ: Or not.
Celia: [Turns to BJ] Or not, honey, but don’t we already know that story?
BJ: Just being realistic.
Celia: Half full or half empty? You decide, hon. Life leaves it for you to choose.
WC: Did anything happen between you two after that?
Celia: Oh yeah. Not at first but oh my god just fantasizing about him watching me would trigger an orgasm. About a week later he came around looking for my brother. Just knowing I was alone and he was in the house set me off. When I heard him sit down in the living room my finger was already on my clit. I was a mess, nervous and excited. I was gonna’ have a heart attack, just from the nervousness, but I got up, opened my bedroom door and there he was. He was looking for me too I stood there biting my lip but we both knew what we wanted. He wanted to see and I wanted to be seen. I scooted by him and went into the bathroom. I lifted my long T-Shirt, bunched it in my lap and sat on the toilet. I spread my legs and showed him and, bless him, he got on his knees with that cocky smile. ‘You’re a hot fucking bitch,’ he said and I don’t know but, I guess, to me those were beautiful and affirming words.
WC: Love that you liked that.
Celia: There’s a time and place, Will. Any woman says there’s never a time or place to be sex object— Well, I never met that woman.
BJ: You can’t say that about every woman.
Ceila: No, hon, I can’t say that about every woman, but you and I both know there’s more exhibitionism in women.
BJ: Okay. [BJ smiles at me as if to drop the argument.]
Ceila: We’ll get to you soon enough, hon. [She turns to me, mock whispering.] He’s jealous of me talking about old lovers.
BJ: I’m not.
Ceila: You are. Every time you get disagreeable.
BJ: There are probably women who don’t want to be sex objects and never want to be treated like sex objects.
Ceila: Seriously, hon? Now you want to be politically correct? You really think when a guy’s fucking a girl he’s not treating her like a sex object? He’s thinking to himself: How lucky am I? I’m fucking the valedictorian. Seriously?
Ceila: All he’s thinking about is what a tight little pussy she has.
BJ: You know that about every guy?
Ceila: [She turns to me.] And she’s thinking: What a big cock he has.
BJ: Jesus, Celia.
Ceila: Or wallet, or future earnings—
Ceila: Yeah, anyway, after he tells me I’m a ‘hot, fucking bitch’, he unzips his own cock and we both start masturbating. I’d never seen a boy’s cock, let alone hard and let alone masturbating. He wanted to look close at my pussy but I told him I wanted to see his cock. That orgasm was intense. I squealed when I came and I kept squealing when I saw all that come shoot out of his cock. It was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. Still is. Knowing I caused it. Knowing I made him want to. Knowing I made him loose control. Like he spilled himself right there, for me, between my feet.
WC: Your dominant streak.
Ceila: The worship me, want me, need me, spill your offerings at my feet, but don’t touch me streak.
WC: Did he?
Ceila: He’d show up when I wasn’t around . We moved from the bathroom to my room. Me at my desk chair. He wanted me to suck him. I didn’t want to, but then thinking about it, once the idea is planted, I wanted to. One day, I’m almost ready to come; he stands up and it just looks huge. He’s holding it in his fist and slips his other hand behind my head. He asks: ‘You wanna’ swallow come, little pussy?’ ‘No,’ I said. And then he says: ‘I want to see you swallow my come.’ And that’s what set me off. He wanted to watch me, you know? He wanted to watch me swallow his come. I was so turned on I was shaking. I told him not to come until I was ready. He couldn’t wait. He got it all over me: my mouth, my face, between my legs.
WC: Between your legs?
Celia: [Laughs.] I panicked. I was scared to death of getting pregnant. I ran to the bathroom. I toweled myself off and then I panicked again because his come was all over my bathtowel. I was totally pissed off. [Laughs again.] He wanted to put it inside me but I never let him.
WC: You were hooked after that?
WC: But this was all before cheerleading, right?
Celia: The first time I admitted to a friend I wanted to tryout for cheerleading she says to me: ‘All those Dads? They’re, like, totally not watching the game. And they’re not into you because you’re, like, cheering for the team. They’re getting off on you. I mean, it’s exhibitionism. It’s sexual objectification.’ And that was the first time I heard the word exhibitionism. I looked it up and was like: Oh yeah, that’s me. The perverse act of attracting attention to yourself. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I wanted to be a cheerleader.
WC: So, let me just ask, was it just you or do you think other girls thought that way.
Celia: And guys, Will.
WC: Guys too.
Celia: I don’t think you can be a cheerleader without having an exhibitionist streak. How can you be a cheerleader and not have an exhibitionist streak? The first time I put on my cheerleading outfit, in my own room, was incredibly sexual and empowering. Wow. Is that me? Hips. Tits. A woman. And look at her. She’s beautiful. She’s not this small-breasted, dark-haired, near-sighted waif who wears glasses with a pale complexion.
WC: You don’t immediately look like the cheerleading type.
Celia: I was a nerd consorting with the popular and beautiful. You know what I mean? Nobody really knew what to make of me. There’s this whole stereotype about what cheerleaders are like.
WC: And fetish.
Celia: Exactly. But women look too. My friend who told me cheerleading was for Dads gave me my first lover’s orgasm. She was pretty pouty after I told her I was trying out. She was on a feminist kick, but what I totally didn’t get was that she had a crush on me. About three weeks into practice I was trying on a new uniform. I was at home. Karen was sitting on the bed looking bored. I asked if she was coming to the game. I was looking at myself in the mirror, self-absorbed, and asked her again, and then the next thing I know she’s behind me. Her hands on my hips. I knew right away. She was watching me in the mirror, waiting for me to say no. Then both hands were under my uniform, the fingers of one hand on my clit and the other on my tit. I was frozen. After all that playing around, I’d never actually been touched. And this? I think I must have lasted about twenty seconds. I came. I was so shocked it didn’t occur to me to do anything but kiss. We were lovers after that. She stopped being so morose and, you know, it dawned on me. She’d been jealous. I think she thought I was cheerleading because I was into getting guys, which wasn’t at all why. I mean, I’m into guys, but it wasn’t the reason . Karen came to the games. We got braver in our lovemaking. We’d go to her place afterward. I’d put on the cheerleading outfit and do sexy moves while she watched and masturbated with a dildo. The first time we role played, she stopped me when I was bent over and starting to do a split. My hands were on the floor. ‘Don’t move,’ she said. She looked possessed. She came up behind me and was palming my ass. ‘You like being a slut, don’t you?’ It was the first time she’d ever used that language. She spanked me. ‘Tell me you’re a slut,’ she said. And then I went with it. ‘I’m a cheerleading whore and a slut.’ I said. She pressed the end of the dildo against the crotch of my skirt. I’d never had anything inside me. ‘Does the little slut want a hard cock?’ And then, oh my god, I couldn’t breathe. I was shaking. I said yes. ‘Say it again,’ she said. ‘Yes, the little cheerleading slut needs cock.’ And that was it. She pulled aside the crotch of my skirt— [She pauses, bites her lip and presses her knees together.] Sorry, I’m a little wound up. She was so slow. A guy never would have been that slow. She pushed, just opened me with the tip, then let it glide into me under its own weight. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Nothing felt so good in my life but having my pussy filled. Or that’s what I thought. Then she started thrusting and next thing you know, I did go to heaven. I stayed bent over like that, ass in the air, and gave her my pussy.
WC: She wanted you to be her slut.
WC: I think it’s kind of interesting how she was using feminist language, sort of accusing you of objectifying yourself, then used the same language in a fetishistic way when she became your lover.
Celia: I think there’s that push and pull in so many things we do.
WC: So how did you and BJ meet?
Celia: That was my last year. After Karen and I broke up, I started hanging out with the other girls and sometimes the team. We were at a teammates house for a party and somehow I got doused with beer, that god-awful stuff that always circulates around frat parties. BJ was incredibly sweet. He was thishuge defensive lineman, shy, sweet and gentle. You don’t expect a guy with hands like his to be so gentle. He gave me his coat.
BJ: I asked her if she had a change of clothes.
Celia: Just my cheerleading outfit.
BJ: I told her to put it on and she could wear my coat over it.
Celia: It’s not like I’ve ever been to this house. BJ shows me where there’s a little TV room and tells me he’ll make sure nobody comes in which, you know, totally lit my exhibitionist fuse. It’s going to sound totally corny but I ask him if he can come in and zip my outfit, right? Like there are zippers on these, but what does a defensive lineman know? He comes in and I push him back on the couch. Then I turn around and bend over: Ever see a cheerleader bend over?
BJ: [BJ shakes his head and smiles.]
Celia: God, I’m awful. I do not have an off switch, right? But it had been months and something about him.
BJ: [BJ sighs and growls.]
Celia: He wouldn’t touch me.
BJ: Nope. [Shakes his head.]
Celia: Know what he says? He says this is somebody else’s couch, somebody else’s living room, there are kids who sit on this couch and no, he doesn’t want a blow job in somebody else’s house; and he said it with this gorgeous smile that told me he wanted to. I. Was. Hooked, Will. I fell in love with him right then and there, and oh fuck but I wanted him.
Celia: Well, yeah. I mean— It was just— It’s like this: There are two types of guys who join the military, the guys who want to take orders and the guys who want to give orders. I’m like those guys who need orders. We just spin out of control, and here’s this guy who looks like a big, huge, rock. [She bites her nail.] We were married by the time he joined the marines.
WC: So I have to ask: What happened?
Celia: I follow him around like a love-sick puppy for the rest of the night. And he gets me. I just knew I could be whoever I wanted to be around him—and be safe. Before the party’s over, I’m on his lap by the pool, grinding, kissing him. He was mine. I knew, that night he was mine.
BJ: [Smiles.] You see how just a little bit of alcohol clouds a girl’s judgment—
Celia: [Turns to BJ.] Alcohol had nothing to do with it, babe. You’re the one for me. I knew it the minute we met. And you aren’t all good. Just the right mix. Bad and good. A girl wants a gentleman who knows how to be a bad boy. [Turns to me.] He offers to drive me home and says: ‘Let’s take the scenic route.’ Soon as we get in the truck he says to me: ‘Now who wouldn’t mind seeing you open your legs again?’ And then? Every little exhibitionist trigger in me is tripped. See? He knew that. He got me. He knew that would wind me up. He’s driving. Can’t touch me. And I start sliding my finger tip up and down the groove of my pussy. He says—
BJ: You are, without doubt, the sexiest pussy in Arkansas.
Celia: I kept telling him what I was doing, but don’t look, keep your eyes on the road.
BJ: [Laughs.] Fuck baby.
Celia: Yeah, exactly. We never made it to his place or mine. He pulled the truck off next to Grantham’s pond. He got out. Opened my door. Picked me up and put me on the tail gate, legs as open as they’d go, pulled aside the crotch of my outfit and ran his cock up and down my slit. I go to rub my clit he pushes my hand away.
BJ: Two can play that game.
Ceila: And there’s me, technically a virgin, with the head of this cock moving up and down my slit. And oh fuck it felt good and oh fuck I wanted it. [She turns to BJ.] Yours, baby. Your cock. That’s the one. [Turns back to me.] And his cock is nothing like a dildo, right? It’s like BJ, squat, kinda’ of off center, huggable and thick as a tank. When he pushed it inside me I almost floated off the truck bed. Fuck, it felt good. I know some girls don’t have the best time the first time, but I almost had an orgasm, probably because I’d already been masturbating. Then he’s got me there doing a split, got me hooked off the end of the tail gate, and is holding me by my waist. He says—
BJ: You are, without doubt, the tightest pussy in Arkansas.
Ceila: He brings me flowers in the morning and fucks me dirty at night—
BJ: Still the tightest little pussy in Arkansas.
Ceila: [She smiles, one knee over the other.] That’s my kind of romance. And I know it sounds corny, but the minute he filled my cunt was the minute I was his. [She turns to BJ.] Baby, I was yours. That was the night we married. I went home with come in my pussy for the first time.
BJ: We got married the next summer.
Celia: Baby, you know what I mean. [She squeezes his thigh.]
BJ: [BJ shakes his head and smiles.] You know, when I went off to basic training and deployed, I never once worried about her. Not once. Wild as a March hare but I’ve never doubted her. Not once.
Celia: My rock.
WC: You two are a good mix.
BJ: She gets a little ambitious sometimes. Right, baby? Just a little.
Celia: Who’s gonna’ fuck with him. But, Will, you can go places where, like, voyeurs and exhibitionists go to meet. There are rules. There a beaches and trails. Once you start asking around, you can find them. Some go for a stranger fuck, some to watch, some to be watched. Just knowing BJ is going to stop me, yank my shorts to my knees, bend me over and come in me? Without warning? Fuck. He’ll stop me when he sees another couple and right there, right in front of them, make me have an orgasm on his cock.
WC: Open windows?
Celia: Hotel windows. Night. Lights off. Or the morning. It’s not where anybody’s going to see unless they’re looking. It’s more knowing you could be seen. Maybe once or twice we’ve had somebody stop and watch. Me, with my hands against the glass, legs open and getting fucked from behind. There was a driver sitting in the cab of his truck clapping when we were done. But, you know, exhibitionism is a mindset. The truth? I get off harder and quicker knowing my husband’s watching me.
WC: How about you, BJ?
BJ: [He glances at Celia.] I’ll tell you what, when you got a gal like her? It starts out just for the thrill, but soon as we’re being watched, it’s all about showing each other off. Showing off what we got. She gets louder. So do I. I want to make her come and show everybody: Yeah, what we got is great. Take a look. Enjoy.
WC: And when was the first time?
Celia: [She places her hand on BJ’s thigh.] Being in the same room with another couple. That was early on. Should I? [She glances at BJ?]
BJ: That’s why we’re here.
Celia: You know, when you’re in your teens and early twenties, all you want to do is fuck and fuck and fuck and there’s nowhere to fuck. We were holed up with BJ’s best friend and his girlfriend before the last game of the season. [She pauses.] You know this is going to sound like the plot of every bimbo porno movie. Seriously. But okay. There was definitely a little roleplay.
BJ: [Smiles.] More than a little, baby.
Celia: Emilio’s girlfriend, Trish— [She pauses again.] You’re changing their names, right Will?
WC: Already changed.
Celia: We were going to go change into our outfits and, you know, without even talking to each other, we both turned around and started undressing in front of the boys.
BJ: [Exhales.] You haven’t lived.
Celia: Two teen-aged, Cheerleader sweethearts, right baby? [Celia squeezes Bj’s crotch and continues with a sly smile.] Trish starts stripping like a night club stripper. I start too. Tops first, then our bras, then we turn around and bend over like bad girls. We push down our socks and take them off. BJ’s soaking it up. Emilo gets up like he’s going to fuck Trish right there, bent over, hands on her ankles. But soon he gets up she straightens and pushes him back onto the couch. She bends over, knees all straight, and unzips him. She pulls his cock out, strokes it, licks it and sucks it. Then she’s back in the middle of the room. I do the same to BJ. The next thing you know we’re naked and the boys are masturbating. We’re wet. They want to fuck us yesterday but we aren’t done. The whole point—right? Change into our outfits. So we change. Trish leans back on an easy chair and opens her legs. I get on my hands and knees and lift my ass.
BJ: [BJ shakes his head and cracks a grin.] You know, some coaches tell you not to come before a game.
Celia: They fucked us in our uniforms.
BJ: We’d already put on our thigh, hip and knee pads, and that ain’t easy.
Celia: Total role play. BJ yanked my pony tail. [She squeezes BJ’s crotch again.] Made me watch Emilio and Trish as he fucked me from behind.
WC: How did you like that?
Celia: You know what I liked? That it turned BJ on so much. Right after I came he spurted and spurted and spurted inside me. And you know what I did after that? [She smiles mischievously and licks her lips.] I pulled my crotch back over my pussy and went cheerleading—full of come—in front of the whole town. Every time I shook my hips, every time I did a split, his come was in my pussy. I was, scary wound up by the time the game was over.
BJ: And that’s probably the most exhibitionistic we’ve ever done, don’t you think?
Celia: [She quickly turns.] There were other things.
BJ: [BJ smiles at me.] Not like that. That was on a whole ‘nother level.
Celia: You loved it.
BJ: [Gives a short sharp laugh.] What if somebody had noticed?
Celia: What if they did?
BJ: Well, I don’t know. I suppose there’d been hell to pay.
Celia: [She smiles at me.] See? He keeps me earthbound. [Takes his hand.]
BJ: Crazy as a kite.
Celia: You love it, baby.
William Crimson | November 1 2016