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  • He Stared at all that I Showed Ch. 03

He Stared at all that I Showed Ch. 03

12

A match made in Heaven, Kimberly, a 23-year-old exhibitionist, meets Ronald a 72-year-old voyeur.

Revised, Rewritten, and Continued from Chapter 02:

After meeting me, as if he had a makeover, instead of walking around unshaven outside in his pajamas, slippers, and robe, he was now fully dressed for success and dressed for sex. No doubt, with him now taking pride in his appearance once again, he obviously had the hope of starting a new relationship with a woman young enough to be his daughter or granddaughter. Even the men who swear that they'd never be interested in a woman as young, all men are the same. Once I flash them my smile and then my panties and my bra, twisting them around my long, manicured fingers by showing them bits and pieces of my sexy, shapely body, I own their wrinkled asses and flaccid cocks.

Alas and nonetheless, the older, available, divorced, and/or widowed women are just as much of a problem as those married and unmarried women are with babies. Even though their wants, desires, and needs are somewhat different from younger women, they're just as jealous of me and possessive of their men as their younger counterparts. Moreover, what they both have in common; they both want money. Both groups of women want and expect men to support them. Looking at me as if I'm a threat, with me too much competition for their fat asses, women basically don't like other women. The ideal situation for any woman would to be the only hen in a henhouse that had multiple rooster strutting around.

In the same way as most older men do, most older women no longer care about their personal appearance, about their hair, their makeup, and their clothes. Most older women, especially those widowed women who hide themselves away in their homes after their husbands have died, have long since given up on the battle of the bulge and looking for a man. Then, there are those women who are lonely, who don't want to be alone, and/or who can't be alone. There are those women who are still sexy, sexual, vibrant, and vital, and who still want to have sex. Those women who are still looking for a man are well groomed, slim, and ready to give whichever new man she finds and is sexually attracted to plenty of sex.

Just as I can tell if an older man is on the prowl, I can always tell if an available, older woman is on the prowl too by how she dresses. Keeping this knowledge in mind to help guide me, no matter what their ages are, whether looking for a boyfriend, a husband, or companionship, women from that generation are looking for a man to support them financially. In the way that men look to women for sex, women look to men for money. In that regard, just as I'm a slut for money, all woman are whores for money. Money for sex. Somethings never change and always remain the same.

As by the example below, sadly and sexually frustratingly, once women get their man, once they get what they want, they dramatically change and revert back to how they were before. Just as a leopard can't change their spots, women can't change who they are. Women can fight it, resist it, and pretend to be someone else, but in the end, as if an elastic band that is pulled to the breaking point, they return to where they were before. Sometimes, when that elastic band snaps, figuratively and literally, they snap too.

Tired of playing silly, sexual games, taking themselves out of the game by isolating themselves, too many older women no longer want to play. Besides, having already experienced a steady diet of older women before, just as a woman wants to marry for money the second time around, many older men want to marry for sex. Even if they can no longer get and maintain an erection, many older men want a younger and sexier woman.

"Pardon? I'm sorry. I don't think I heard you correctly. You want me to do what? You want to stick your dirty thing in my mouth? I don't think so. Sorry, but I don't suck cock," I imagined Edna, Ruth, or Mary saying.

As if they're hands were railroad warning, crossing signs, I imagined them waving their wrinkled, age spotted hands back and forth from side to side and making a sour face after cock teasing her man before she married him. Now that she got what she wanted, his retirement income and Social Security check, he'd best be quiet. Now that they're married, he had no chance in Hell of her blowing him and him cumming in her mouth. He'd best stop complaining, shut the fuck up, watch his TV, and drink his beer while his new woman goes out shopping.

With everything unchanged, and all things remaining the same, the only thing that changed was his new woman's first name. The only thing that changed was her hair and eye color and perhaps the size and shape of her body and breasts. Yet, just as his first wife refused to suck his cock, his second wife refused to suck his cock too. Obviously, after he divorces her closed to blowjobs lips or after she dies, he needs someone like me. He needs a young, sexy, slutty, shapely, pretty woman who's willing to take his wrinkled flaccid cock in her mouth for money.

"Wake up, Daddy. Good morning. It's time for your morning blowjob. If I can't get you to cum in my mouth this morning, I guarantee you that I'll get you to cum in my mouth tonight," said Kim with her new, much older, live in boyfriend.

Kim's new man smiled at his sweet, young, sexy woman.

"Thank you, Jesus. Thank you," he said.

### ILookLikeJailBait ###

Whether man or women, nearly everyone in this neighborhood had a little, yapping dog. Ron, my new, next door neighbor, a nice but dirty, old man, was the first neighbor to greet me, of course. Having surveilled this neighborhood from my car, just as I already had a feel for the residents who lived her, I already knew his name.

Oddly enough, unlike his pet owning neighbors, he didn't have a dog. He didn't even have a cat. Obviously, having given up on finding a woman and relegated to live the rest of his life hidden in his house alone and without sex, as if he was on house arrest, he had confined himself to his house. Only, with me living next door to him as his new, sexy neighbor, he was no longer alone and lonely.

'Poor Ron,' thought Kim.

Only, unbeknownst to Ron, his life was about to change for the better. Ron was Kim's new mark. He was her next sexual victim. Sex for money and money for sex, just as she was ready to flash him, he looked ready to be flashed. A match made in Heaven, an exhibitionist living next door to a voyeur, life doesn't get any better than this.

Judging Ron by the way he was leering at Kim, if he did have a dog, his dog would have been humping her leg in the way that Ron, no doubt, wanted to hump her mouth and/or her pussy. Nonetheless, with him looking as if he just showered, shaved, and put on clean clothes, Kimberly already had his number. As soon as she saw him, he was just the man she had been looking to find.

'Grandpa,' she said silently to herself.

Chapter 03:

Minding my own business, kind of, a little bit, well, not at all really being that I knew my new neighbor was watching me. Anyway, I was unloading my 'Rent Me' truck wearing very short, cutoff jeans and a very, low cut top while pretending to struggle with boxes. Just as I wanted him to notice me flashing him, hoping that he would, I wanted him to help me with my boxes too.

Playing my part as the innocent virgin, I stooped, I bent, and I stretched while struggling to lift and move boxes. Just as I pretended that I didn't know that I was being watched, I pretended that I didn't know that I was as exposed as I was. Having practiced my sexy, flashing moves in my full length mirror, I already knew all that I was deliberately showing him.

Every time I moved in these short, jean shorts and this oh, so low cut top, I showed him a lot of my round, shapely ass and even more of my big tits in this outfit. If I wasn't wearing panties and a bra, with me being practically naked, I'd be showing him everything. If I wasn't wearing my bra and panties, he'd practically be seeing me in my birthday suit.

Yet, with me an expert in flashing, I've deliberately flashed hundreds of men before while making my flashing appear unintentional. No doubt, for him to catch me flashing him, he was thinking that he was in the right place at the right time. Along the way, I've learned that it's always better to show men a little at a time instead of showing them everything all at once.

As I've done with many other men, in the case of Ron, it's better that I sexually tease him and erotically entice him with what more he imagines he sees while he undoubtedly wonders what I look like topless and/or naked. Moreover, it's always better that I hold a little something back in reserve to regain his interest should his eye wander to someone else. Something he'd appreciate later when I titillated him, rather that I surprise him later than to show him what I look like naked.

'God, already feeling my nipples harden and my pussy getting wet, I so love playing this sexy game of exhibitionism and voyeurism. I so love showing my sexy body to men,' I thought. 'I so love when men leer at me and ogle me while I pretend not to notice, their horny, lustful stares,' I thought while continuing to flash Ron.

Ironically, if only Ron knew that I was deliberately flashing him, wouldn't he be surprised? Alas, if only Ron was my father or my grandfather instead of my next door neighbor, without a doubt, I'd be flashing him too. Then, again, if I had a father and/or a grandfather, along with a mother, a sister, and/or a brother, if I had a real family instead of a foster care family, maybe I wouldn't have the need to flash anyone at all. Maybe I'd be normal instead of twisted enough to expose my panties, my bra, my cleavage, my ass crack, and my naked ass, tits, and pussy to a small army of unsuspecting men.

I don't know why I do the sexy, sexual things that I do but as if I'm driven, I can't help myself from flashing unsuspecting men. I have no idea why I feel the need to sexually expose myself to men, especially to much older men. No doubt, unless I go for psychological counseling, my need to flash is something I'll never know. Yet, thinking out of the box by using my driven desire to sexually expose myself to make some money, I've earned a living flashing happily, surprised men bits and pieces of my sexy, shapely body.

With me an exhibitionist and deliberately giving him a real show of my God given gifts, I was wearing clothes that were not only comfortable but also that were quite inappropriately revealing. Whenever I stooped, bent, stretched, and/or leaned, I was showing him plenty of my sexy, shapely body. Whenever I stooped, bent, stretched, and/or leaned, I was showing him my ass crack, my panties, my ass cheeks, my bra, and my cleavage. Moreover, I purposely wore my bra loose enough so that whenever I was stopping, bending, stretching, and/or leaning while facing my next door neighbor, I was flashing Ron not only my cleavage and bra but also my areolas and nipples too.

'God, I'm such a slut,' I thought.

Wishing I had a camera to photograph the shocked and sexually excited look on his face, obviously, I was making his day, his week, his month, and his year with my flashing. Obviously, he'd be recalling all that I was flashing him now, later when he masturbated himself over me flashing him. Having not even formally met the man, he had already seen so very much of my sexy, shapely, and nearly naked body. Having not even met him, with him already so very predictable, I could read him like a book and play him like a pinball machine.

Having been down this flashing mode with so very many other men, I knew what he was going to do before he even knew what he was going to do. Having seen his kitchen curtain move a few times, no doubt, I had already piqued his interest and curiosity enough for him to come outside for a closer look of all that I was showing and all that he was seeing. After seeing him peeking out of his kitchen window, waiting for it, while knowing he was on his way outside, he emerged from his house to volunteer his help.

'Hiya, neighbor,' I said to myself.

### ILookLikeJailBait ###

"Hi there sexy," he said as if on cue and as if he already knew me.

As if I was naked in a hot sauna with him, I felt the warm heat from him staring at my jean clad ass as if I had his Social Security check pinned to my disgracefully short, jean shorts. Knowing full well that they would, my short, jean shorts grew shorter every time I stooped, bent, stretched, and/or leaned forward. Knowing full well that he could see up my short, jean shorts, I was deliberately showing him outrageous in between my leg views of my panty clad pussy. Also, just as I was wearing a loose bra, I was wearing loose panties too. If he looked close enough and long enough, I knew he could see my trimmed, black, pubic hair, my pussy lips, and even my glistening pink pussy.

'What do you think of me now, Grandpa? I bet you love all that you're seeing of me,' I thought.

Obviously, with him staring more at my ass than at my tits, easy for me to discern, I assumed that he was an ass man. While keeping his body part preference in mind, I stood and turned to flash him my best, pearly, white smile. Perhaps after I flashed him my big, shapely breasts, he'd become a breast man as well as an ass man.

Actually, with me quite proud of my natural breasts, I couldn't wait to flash him my naked tits, areolas, and nipples later tonight. As if I was Many Pepperidge, played by Mary Louise Weller, in Animal House, I couldn't wait to flash him all of my sexy, naked body while undressing with the light on while standing in front of my unshaded bedroom window later tonight. Oh, yeah, with him sitting in the dark across from my bedroom window, as if he was a one-man audience and I was on stage, I'd be giving him a naked show of my sexy body.

'Oo la la,' I thought while imagining all of the flashing fun we'll be having now that we're next door neighbors.

He continued staring at me. When he wasn't staring he was leering and when he wasn't leering, he was ogling all that I was deliberately showing him. He looked at me as if I was standing there in my bra and panties, topless, or naked. As if he had money falling out of his pockets, I looked at him as if he was holding two fistfuls of one-hundred-dollar-bills.

"Hi there, neighbor," I said turning to face him and to give him a big smile while wiping my brow with the back of my hand.

Looking at him as if I was tired and weary, which I was, I enjoyed playing the part as the helpless woman. As if I was offering free samples at the grocery store, he stepped closer as if he was a stalker and was about to attack me. The way he leered at me was the same way that all older men stared at me. As if he was already trying to imagine me naked, with what little I was wearing, it wasn't too difficult to imagine me without my clothes.

"Ron. I'm Ron. I live next door," he said turning to point to his house as if I didn't know where he lived. "I'm a widower. My wife, Sharon, died last year."

I gave him my best concerned look.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Ron. I'm so sorry for your loss, Ron," I said making sure to personalize my remarks by calling him by his first name again.

Actually, with me knowing what it's like to be alone and lonely, I did feel sorry for him. Everyone should have someone, even if it's a dirty, old man like him and even if it's a money grubbing slut like me. Moreover, with me a real handful, I felt sorry for him to be living next door to someone like me. Just as I'd complicate his life with my contrived issues and personal problems, that miraculously disappeared with copious amounts of his money dry my tears and to fix all of my problems, he was in for the ride of his life. For sure, I'd be giving him something more to do that to just watch the Price Is Right, Jeopardy, and the Nightly News on TV.

As if older men had become forgotten by their friends and abandoned by their families, the men that I befriended and chose as my marks very carefully were happy that I paid them so very much, personal attention. With them having the money to pay me to play, and with them not having a controlling woman in their life to reel them in, admonish them, and warn them about the evils of someone like me, seemingly, they didn't mind being taken. Assuredly, why would they mind being monetarily played and taken, when I was giving them all the they want sexually?

Obviously, with my sexy, sexual companionship worth whatever the price they needed to pay me, it was as if they didn't care what it cost them to have the undivided attention of such a young, pretty, and sexy thing. The sexual attention of a sexy and beautiful woman can do wonders for a man's morale. Being that he obviously looked lonely now but he wouldn't be having that sad face for long with me as his new, sexy, young neighbor.

By flashing him more than my smile, my ass, and panties later, I'd be livening up his life soon enough. Between undressing with my bedroom light on and my bedroom shades open, to washing my dishes topless, to walking around my apartment in my panties and bra, topless, and/or naked, he'll be seeing more of me than he'd ever hoped to see. With me hoping to eventually find someone too, I couldn't imagine going through the rest of my life without having someone with me every day to love. Until that day, it was just Ron and I.

"How long were you married, Ron?"

Obviously and suddenly with him feeling important enough in my mind for me to continue calling him by his first name, his eyes lit up whenever I called him by name. As if he was still missing his wife, even though he had a sad look on his face when I first met him, he didn't have a sad look now. Now, as if I was standing before him in my panties and bra, topless, or naked, I controlled his focused attention with him staring at my sexy, shapely, loosely clothe body. As if his eyes were two, unbroken lasers, with him undressing me with his eyes, I could already feel him the heat of his stare burning through my clothes.

'Hot, so hot, this is so hot,' I thought.

As if I could read his mind, I could see that he was torn by the memory of his beloved, deceased wife, Sharon, and by the sexual lust that he suddenly had for me. By me paying him my sexy, sexual, undivided attention, I was the best unprescribed medicine he could ever have. By calling him by name and smiling at him, I made him feel so very important, something he, no doubt, hasn't felt since he stopped working, retired, and became a widower. In the way that he continued looking at me and in the way that I kindly returned his lewd look with my sexy stare, I tried my best to make him feel as if he was my new, much older boyfriend.

A win/win for both of us, yet just a simple act of kindness, by allowing him to help me with my boxes, I made him feel useful and important again. Obviously, I was helping him as much as he was helping me. Because I like men, especially much older men, men who are old enough to be my father and/or grandfather, I looked at him more as a man than I did as a senior citizen.

I looked at him as if he was more useful and vital than he had obviously grown accustomed to being when made to feel invisible. For the time being and for however long our friendship lasted, he was my man, my main man. He was the man who I hoped would help me as much financially as I would help him sexually.

### ILookLikeJailBait ###

'God, sometimes I feel so wicked when I sexually tease and unmercifully entice men for money,' I thought while eager to sexually tease and unmercifully entice my new, next door neighbor, Ron.

A fine, thin line from what I do as an opportunist and what a prostitute does for sex, in my defense, I concentrate on one man at a time. I don't have multiple tricks in one night. Moreover, with many of my much older boyfriends unable to get and to maintain an erection, most of my sexy roleplay is limited to just flashing. In my defense, I may be a slut but I'm not a whore.

12
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