Flirty Skirt Chapter 1 (M/f, exhibitionism) When you think about it, it was the skirt's fault. You could say it was my fault, since I picked it out in the store. And it was my fault that I wore it. And it was definitely my fault that all I had on underneath were little thong panties. But the rest? I still say it was the skirt's fault. I suppose Daddy could have NOT bought it for me, but can you blame him? Since it was just him and me most of the time (Momma travelled a lot for her work), he directed most of his love and affection towards his only child. As a result, I got spoiled rotten. If I wanted it, all I had to do was ask. Sometimes I had to beg a little, but one look into my sweet blue eyes and he would surrender. I wasn't a completely spoiled brat. I knew how lucky I was that I had a Daddy who would buy me whatever my little heart desired, and so I tried not to take advantage of that. Daddy worked hard for his money, and it wouldn't be right for him to spend it all on me. Sure, we went shopping a lot, but we never bought a whole lot at once. A t-shirt one trip, maybe some flip-flops a few weeks later; I tried to keep things small and simple. But when I saw that skirt, I just had to have it. I instantly saw how well it would go with a lot of my summery clothes. Sure, it was a bit short - but I kinda liked that. It was a little daring, but since I'd just spent a few months in track, I wanted to show off my legs, which had gotten very lean and tan. I ran into the store and immediately started pawing through the racks. Daddy followed me, a little bemused but used to shopping with a teenaged daughter. I found one that was my size and ran up to show him. "Is that what you were all excited about, Kristi?" he asked, looking a little doubtfully at the skirt. "I dunno, it looks little small." "Let me try it on first, Daddy," I replied, already moving over to the fitting rooms. "I'm sure you'll change your mind when you see it on me." "Okay, hon," said a pretty resigned Daddy, who had moved over to the chairs next to the fitting area. Inside the mirrored booth, I stripped off my jeans and slipped on the skirt. "Whoa!" I thought, "it IS a little small." It was cut low on the hips and fit snugly to just below my butt. Below the cheeks, it flared widely for a scant two inches and was simply no more. It was a made out of a thin white stretchy material that would leave a VERY visible panty line - I was glad I'd thrown on my one and only thong that morning; I'd have to buy more of them if I got the skirt. I twirled a little and the skirt flipped up, showing my tight little butt. "Not much room to bend over," I thought, trying it out. "This might be a tough sell." I tossed my blonde curly hair around and turned this way and that, trying to make up my mind. The way the skirt made my bellyshirt even sexier convinced me that it was worth a try. Daddy's eyes nearly popped out when I exited the fitting booth. "Um, Kitten?" he almost stammered. He cleared his throat as I twirled (very slowly) around for him. "Kitten? Your momma will shoot me if she sees you in that." I pouted and struck another pose for him. "Don't you like it, Daddy?" He raised an eyebrow at me, managing to look at me straight in the face for a moment before dropping his gaze to the hemline again. "It's not a question of like or dislike, sweetie," he said. "It's a question of how your mother will kill me if she finds out I bought her thirteen-year-old daughter this thing." I dropped onto his lap and put my freckled nose on his. I looked straight into his baby blues (he was my daddy, all right!) and whispered, "Then I absolutely promise that she'll never, ever find out about it. Swear on a whole stack of secrets." He stared at me for a few seconds, then sighed and kissed my nose. "Okay, Kristi. As long as she never sees it." He paused, then smirked. "Especially if you're in it." I gave him a big hug, thanked him with kisses, and then tore off for the dressing room. I changed first, then informed him that I'd need some new underwear, too. *** Momma left for Singapore the next week, which meant two things: Daddy could have Poker Night at our place and I could wear my new skirt openly. I was excited about the latter - I had a movie date with my best friend Jenny and I wanted to show her the skirt. I agonized over the ensemble for the day - I wanted to look perfect so that Jenny would get a little jealous (ah, the games girls play!). After trying on and discarding a couple of combinations, I settled on a pink cami with spaghetti straps, a gold belly chain, a white thong from Vicky's, a little sparkly anklet, and white wedge flip-flops. The cami came down to just above my belly button and fit snugly; after deliberating in the mirror, I decided that I could probably get away without a bra. The look was perfect - the top hugged my budding B-cup breasts and offset my long blonde curls; the skirt showed off my smooth tan legs; and the wedges gave my butt just a little lift. Daddy was working from home that day, and he raised an eyebrow when I flounced in to remind him that he promised to take me to meet Jenny at the mall. He mumbled a few words about my outfit but didn't put up a fight; he knew that he was a pat of butter in my hands. For his troubles, he got a great big hug and a kiss on the cheek before I jumped out of the car. The mall was unusually quiet for a summer weekday. The Fourth of July had fallen in the middle of the week, so most of the town had taken off for an extended holiday down by the shore. I wandered around for a bit, floating from store to store, waiting for Jenny to call me and tell me she'd arrived. There were a few guys my age floating around, and they stared but didn't really come to talk to me. They made little comments to each other when I passed, but I ignored them - I'd decided that dorky teenaged boys were beneath my interest earlier that year. In the bookstore, though, I noticed a guy in a business suit looking at me. He was flipping through the magazines when I sauntered in and peeked at the latest Cosmo. He seemed a little older than my dad but looked like he took care of himself, very tall and trim in dark linen. I took stock of him and would have dismissed him from my mind except he kept staring at me. Everytime I glanced over, he was looking at me with an appreciative and appraising look in his eye. It was a little unnerving but not uncomfortable because he wasn't quite gawking. I found that I liked it and so kept rifling through the mags, lingering a bit near my admirer. I was edging nearer to him, not sure what I was doing, when my phone rang. It was Jenny, and as I answered her call, I left the bookstore and headed towards the theater. "Hey Kristi, sorry but I can't make it," she said apologetically. "Oh no! I'm already at the mall!" I replied. "Shit! My stupid aunt came over suddenly and I can't go out now," she explained. "Well, I guess I can see the movie by myself," I complained. We exchanged a few pleasantries and promised to call each other later that night. As I moved to put my phone back in my purse, my wallet fell out. Forgetting what I was wearing, I bent over at the waist and picked it up. As I straightened up, the reflection in a store window showed me that my admirer from the bookstore was a few yards behind me. I had undoubtedly flashed him a view of my butt, which was not-quite-covered by the mesh thong I was wearing. I turned around and saw he was looking straight at me. He smiled and winked; I blushed furiously and hurried along to the movie theater. I bought my ticket and entered the cool darkness of the theater, where the previews had just begun. There were a few old people sitting near the front, so I sat in the center of the back row. Besides the old people, I was alone the theater. I leaned back and closed my eyes, still a little mortified at having flashed that guy in the bookstore. A little flush returned when I replayed the incident in my head. It wasn't that I didn't want him to look; in fact, I rather liked him looking at me, liked that little wink he had tipped me, and loved the rush I got from knowing that he had seen my tight little butt. I wished I had known what to say to him, that I had done something other than run away like a scared little girl. "Excuse me, is this seat taken?" I jumped a little, startled at the interruption of my thoughts. My bookstore guy was standing next to me! His eyes twinkled as he smiled, and he positively towered over me. He stood next to me in an almost-empty theater and my mind stuttered for a second. I must not have looked too startled because he sat down next to me. "I travel a lot for work," he commented almost absently, looking at me with kind eyes. "I go to a lot of movies to kill time between flights and meetings." His eyes rested on mine, darted downwards for an instant, and then back up to the eyes. "Do you often come to movies by yourself?" I told him no, that my friend had canceled on me, and that I really wanted to see the movie. He asked if he could keep me company, and I stammered a little bit, finally getting out "Yes" and earning a smile that was so charming that I melted a little. The lights dimmed down, and the previews started. We watched them silently, my mind reeling a bit. As the first one drew to a close, I glanced over at my companion. He wasn't watching the preview but was instead looking at me. Our eyes met, and I looked back at the screen, quickly, caught and not knowing what to do about it. He leaned over and whispered into my ear, "I like looking at you." I didn't respond. My eyes were locked on the screen. He chuckled and whispered, "And you like me looking at you. If you didn't, you wouldn't still be sitting here." It was true. I knew it. I just didn't know what to do about it. The movie started. As the titles came on screen, I glanced back over at him again. He was still looking at me. I looked back at the screen. He leaned in. "I liked what I saw earlier. You know that skirt doesn't cover a whole lot." My heart pounded, and I licked my dry lips. A pause. I felt his hot breath on my ear as he breathed, "I would very much like to see that again." My breath came in short gasps. I couldn't think. All I knew is that my body was flushed with an excitement I'd only recently begun to be aware of. I realized that my nipples were hard, but the theater wasn't that cold. More hot breath in my ear. "I think you dropped something over there. Why don't you pick it up?" I knew what he was asking. It made me frightened and nervous and hot all at the same time. I thought about him looking at me bending over and felt a slight shock as I realized: I wanted him to see me like that again. Slowly, in the darkness of the theater, I stood up, turned away from my admirer, and bent over at the waist. I felt the hem of my skirt ride up the backs of my thighs as I slowly "searched" for what I had dropped. I felt his eyes on my legs, my ass, and my tiny little thong-covered pussy, and for the first time in my life, felt the need for someone else to touch me. He leaned in for a closer look. I knew because I felt his breath on the backs of my thighs. He blew on my legs, and I shivered. I heard a sniff - one, two, three - and then heard him sit back into his seat. I straightened up and sat back down. I kept my eyes on the screen but didn't see a thing. He leaned over. "I can smell you," he breathed. "I can smell how wet you are." My little thong was drenched. I knew what that meant. It had never happened before, but it was happening now. This handsome, commanding older man was making me horny, and my panties were soaked through because of it. Another whisper. "Oops. You're so clumsy." This time, when I stood up, I turned my head and looked at him. His eyes locked onto mine, and they twinkled with experience and knowledge. He knew that I was going to do what he wanted because that was what I wanted, too. He beckoned me with a slight motion of the head. I moved over to stand in front of him, my legs together between his. I leaned over the back of the seats in front of him and gripped the arm rests. It was lucky that there was some loud dialogue right then. As my forearms touched the arm rests, I felt a single finger run down my ass crack and over my swampy pussy. I gave a little squeak, and he chuckled. "That won't do at all," he said from behind me, and then his fingers slipped the thong right down over my ass and down my legs to pool at my ankles. I was exposed to a stranger. A man who had seen me and knew how to bring something out. He had taken control of me, and I loved it. "I think you should sit down now." I stepped out of my wedges and panties, slipped the sandals back on, and sat down. Glancing over, I saw him reach down and retrieve my undergarment and bring it to his nose. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled with gusto. "Lovely bouquet," he said, before leaning over. He took my chin in one hand, looking deeply into my eyes. "You're a lovely girl," he said, and his thumb caressed my lower lip. "Open up." I opened my mouth, and he stuffed the panties in. I could taste my juices caught within the mesh. "This should help you stay quiet." He slid out of his seat to stand before me. He leg touched my knees, and they parted instinctively. He knelt before me, and smiled. Placing my feet up on the seat backs in front of me, he said, "My pants will need dry cleaning, but it will be worth it." There we were, my virgin pussy exposed to this man I had just met. He could see everything about my unknown sex, and as I unseeingly watched the movie, he dipped his head down and kissed my wet, juicy clit. Tingles radiated outwards, and I lift my hips up to meet his lips, which kissed me again. As he slowly ran his tongue up and down my pussy groove, I bit down on the panties and repressed moans that strained to get out. He licked and kissed and licked and kissed me for God knows how long. His tongue dipped and licked up the juices that ran out of my pussy. He gently sought them in the crack of my ass, and when I felt his tongue rim my rectum, I had to bite down hard not to make a sound. The pressure continued to build. I don't know how long it did. But my maestro played me a little violin, stringing me along and building the tension, until, just as explosions filled the movie screen, he sucked my clit into his mouth. That did it. I screeched into the thong, mashed my pussy into his mouth, and came. My orgasm, my first orgasm, I was having it in a dark movie theater with a handsome stranger sucking me, spreading my legs for a strange man like a slut, and I came and came again. As the sounds of the movie died down, so did my orgasm, and I collapsed in the seat. My lover stood up, and leaned over, and gently pulled the thong out of my mouth. He smiled, put it in his jacket pocket, and placed something in my hand. "I have to catch a flight," he said, "but I will see you again soon, I hope. Please be ready." And with that, he walked out of the theater. After a minute alone, I straighten up and smoothed down my skirt. I looked at what he gave me. It was a calendar card with a date about a month from that day circled and a phone number on the back, and a hundred-dollar bill. I thought about what he said - "Please be ready" - and knew that I would follow his words to the letter. ------------------ Hope you enjoyed my story! If you like what you've read, please email me at hotkimmiecutie@yahoo.com!