Exhibitionist Novels & Stories

"That's it. That's the look. Vulnerable but strong. Exposed but defiant. Beautiful." He lowered the camera and looked at her directly. "The project I'm planning is called 'Exposure.' It's about the female form in various states of vulnerability....not just physical nakedness, but emotional, psychological. I need a model who can be raw. Honest. Unguarded. Can you do that?" "Yes." "The sessions will be long. Intimate. Some poses will be difficult or uncomfortable. And the final exhibition will display these photographs publicly...your naked body on gallery walls for thousands of people to see. Can you handle that?"

I let out a loud moan and then a complaint of his name, which sounded more like a moan, and that just encouraged him more. He moved back, creating distance between our hips and I wanted to protest until his other hand darted to the black jeggings I was wearing and slipped inside without any hesitation. I let out a gasp and closed my eyes tightly. If this continued, lord helps me, the whole beach would be contaminated. And I wasn't fond of exhibitionists so, despite the loud protests from my body and heart, I gripped his arm and slowly shook my head, my eyes still closed. I didn't want to look at his face.

“Would you want other men to see my body?” His gut knotted at the thought of other men near his woman. Times were different, but he was still primitive. “I told you, they wouldn’t unless I allowed it.” And that wasn’t happening. She bit at his jaw and then licked the sting. His body tightened. His cock jerked. Pulsed. Strained hard against the material of his trousers. He loved his reaction. He felt. Actually felt. “Do you know what an exhibitionist is?” There was a teasing note in her voice.

He walks out, and I join him. A few minutes later, we walked through another door. "This side is open." He walked down a hall, and I again looked in the room. The door was open? I turned and looked at him. "Exhibitions and Voyeurisms, those who like being watched, or like watching. People can walk into any room they want and watch and play with their own friend if they have one with them."

loud, athletic, and possessing a raw, masculine energy that seemed to vibrate through the walls of our house. Living with him felt like living next to a dormant volcano. I spent my days avoiding his gaze, terrified that if he looked at me too long, he’d see the hunger clawing at my insides. The OnlyFans account was my outlet. It was the only place where I could be the exhibitionist I secretly was, where I could scream and moan and offer my body to a thousand nameless strangers without the risk of my mother finding out.

He gagged me with my own panties while he destroyed my holes, the risk making every thrust more intense. "Imagine if she knew what a cock-worshipping slut you are," he taunted, fucking my throat until I choked. Then he bent me over by the window, curtains half-open, and railed me doggy-style. Anyone looking up might see my tits pressed against the glass, my face contorted in ecstasy. The exhibitionist thrill pushed me over the edge repeatedly. He came deep in my ass, plugged it with a thick butt plug, and made me wear it all evening while we "watched" a movie. Every shift reminded me of his ownership.

Emma wasn’t that kind of girl. “What’s he like? What do you mean ‘show-time’?” She looked at him questioningly as he effortlessly pulled up with her in his arms, he was getting her below deck before she saw anything that made her uncomfortable. “He likes kinky sex, he’s an exhibitionist, doesn’t matter if you’re male or female, he’ll try to pull you in, he has no qualms about fucking in front of an audience.” He frowned Daniel’s way knowing no way in hell would he ever let any of them touch his girl.

Fuck, why did his criticism already make my nipples tighten under my bra? “Sorry about that, traffic was bad. Show me what we’re working with. I want to get this right for your exhibit.” He gestured for me to follow him deeper into the studio, where canvases leaned against the walls, each one more disturbing and intimate than the last. One painting showed a woman bent over, her face twisted in what looked like pain and pleasure, cum dripping down her thighs while shadowy hands gripped her hips. Another had a man staring straight out, his cock hard and veined, eyes filled with obsession. My pussy clenched involuntarily as I stared, a rush of heat flooding through me.

The police department was involved now so catching the killer was far more important than her going on some show to explain herself to the world. Janet composed her sanity as she walked out the elevator to her favorite floor. The Play room she called it. This room was for the kinky and the free spirits that loved to use toys and whips. This client was a Masochist, a person who derives sexual pleasure from being abused by others, but he was also a congressman who needed privacy for his fantasies.

he puffed out before leaning into me, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered, his voice deeper and huskier, sending pleasurable shocks right down to my sweet spot “I wish I could just fuck you here, right on this spot, with all these people watching” An intense thrill passed through me and I bit my lip, brushing my knee against his rock hard bulge. He knows I love exhibitionism sex, the sensation of people watching while I’m lost in passion is such a turn on for me and Kain loved teasing me with it. “Why don’t you?” I answered, my voice breathless, excitement pulsing through me He just smiled and stepped away from me, our hands still linked, he started down the sidewalk again,