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(Mid 1990s) After I recorded my little fashion show for Mark and Brandon, Brandon asked if I would be interested in making more videos. He offered his services as a cameraman. I didn’t hesitate. I had left my husband in large part because I could not be myself in that relationship. When I tried to express my exhibitionist nature, he was not into it. It upset him. I went years being the wife he wanted and not able to even discuss by desires. Returning to who I am was goal number one for me.
When I answered Brandon’s request to film me, I just said (albeit excitedly), “That would be fun.” But we did not make a plan, and several days went by without him bringing it up. So, I stepped up my naughty girl behavior when he was around, hoping he would get out his camera. Walking around barely dressed, or sometimes completely nude, thinking this would get his attention. It did. He and Mark both responded well to my shenanigans. This was quite rewarding for me, but still no mention of filming.
One afternoon, while Brandon was at his desk editing a video, it started to rain. This was one of those intense Florida afternoon showers. I had a game I liked to play sometimes when it rained. We had a laundry room in the office/apartment, but there were no machines. The guys had made it into a booth for recording audio for their projects. So, I had to use the community laundry room of the apartment complex. It was several buildings away.
I love to frolic in the rain, and it is always more fun when naked. But I didn’t think it would be good to do this in front of my apartment. So, I would put on a long tee shirt with nothing else except the laundry room key that was on a bright stretchy band I wore around my wrist. Then I would go out, far from my apartment, to dance and play in the rain.
There was a neighboring apartment complex next to some large open fields. This is mostly where I would play while wondering who may be watching me from the apartments. I remember doing a lot of cartwheels and handstands. Sometimes the wet shirt would stick to my legs enough to keep me covered, and sometimes it wouldn’t. I had a lot of fun with this and other games.
After I became tired and drenched, I would usually make my way to the laundry room back at my complex. These walks to the room were most enjoyable. As no one would be out in the rain, I could take my time to really appreciate all the sensations of the rain and splash in the puddles with the wet shirt sticking to my body like a refreshingly cool and saturated hug from Mother Nature. This while knowing that the wet tee shirt effect could be revealing things to any who may be watching from their windows. I loved how I could do this while still feeling innocent because I was just a girl caught in the rain.
In the laundry room, I would dare to wait naked while my shirt was in the dryer. Sometimes I could not bring myself to go through with it, but often I did. I thought it was fairly safe, as I could watch out the windows to see if anyone was coming. And if the right person came along, I knew I might let myself get caught. I could quickly get my shirt, if I thought I should. This was such an exciting game for me.
These afternoon Florida showers were usually less than an hour. So, it was rare that anyone would come to the laundry room while it was raining. But I did get caught a couple of times. The first time, I should have known better. When I got to the laundry room, I found that someone had clothes in one of the washing machines. I still decided to put my shirt in the dryer. Just as I did, I saw a guy running across the parking lot toward me. I panicked and went for my shirt. But if you have ever tried to untangle and put on a wet shirt, you know the trouble. I had no chance. He was at the door before I made any progress. I still struggled with the shirt but knew I was caught. Most of the door was glass, and the room was very shallow. I was only a few feet in front of him. No doubt he had seen me already. As I finally worked my head through the shirt, I realized he was leaving. A key was needed to enter, so I wondered if he had forgotten his key, or if after seeing me he thought it best to leave. I didn’t know. As soon as I was done struggling with my shirt, I ran for my apartment. One would think that would have deterred me from playing my rain game again. But I was so aroused by the experience, I could hardly wait for the next rain.
Another time I was caught, my shirt had been in the dryer for only a minute when a car pulled up out front. I immediately grabbed my shirt and struggled into it. I had some time because the car just sat there for a while. I wondered if it was the police. Even though the small room had large uncovered windows, and the door was glass, I thought no one could see in very well in the daytime, unless they were close. Now, watching this car, I thought I might be wrong. Perhaps someone in one of the apartments across the lot saw me and I was in trouble. I started working on my as a welldressed middleaged man got out of the car and came up to the door. He looked through the window and knocked. I let him in, convinced I was in trouble. He only then realized this was the laundry room and explained that he thought it was the complex office. I told him where the office was, and he asked if he could wait inside until the rain passed.
I was well aware that my shirt, still wet, looked as if I was in the middle of a wet tee shirt contest. He commented about how wet I was and looked me over while I explained that I had come in here to dry off. But he knew I was up to something. It was obvious that I stood there in nothing but a tee shirt, still dripping wet, with none of the machines running. I thought I should excuse myself and leave but I didn’t want him to see what apartment I went to, and as he made small talk with me, I grew more comfortable. Whatever he thought about what I was doing, I could tell he enjoyed being there with me. Realizing this was just the kind of encounter for which I seek, I relaxed a bit, and even started to flirt. After a while, I hopped up on a dryer to sit. I began to swing my legs and tried to look adorable while wondering if he knew for sure that I wasn’t wearing panties.
We continued to chat well after the rain slowed. I admitted to him that I had been out playing in the rain and went on about how much I loved it. He was quite entertained. I enjoyed my confession such that I debated telling him what I was doing in the laundry room. I even wondered if I would dare to show him what I was doing in the laundry room. I took such pleasure from the ual tension building that I decided to go through with it. I asked if he would mind if I threw my shirt in the dryer. I could see him searching for what to say as I slid off the machine and onto my feet, hoping for the courage to pull my shirt off over my head in front of this man I only just met. He answered, but I caught none of it as I saw a young couple at the door. We froze and suddenly felt guilty about something as the couple entered and saw a man in a suit blushing in front of a girl in nothing but a wet shirt. The couple, holding their laundry, apologized as we all felt very awkward. I rushed out past them, with a quick goodbye to my new friend, who followed close behind. I wondered what the couple thought was going on as I ran off in the waning rain and he drove away.
It was not long after these experiences that I was alone with Brandon in the office/apartment when the rain began. I put on a tee shirt and tried to get his attention, announcing I was going out to play in the rain. He noticed me in my tee shirt and smiled. I flashed him my bottom as I went out the door, but I wasn’t sure if he saw. This time I splashed and danced around just outside the door, hoping he would get his camera. But no luck.
After a few minutes, I went back inside and continued to push for his attention. I could hear how obvious and silly I sounded as I made statements about how wet I was, and how much fun I was having. He watched from his desk as I pulled off my shirt in the kitchen and wrung it out over the sink, but he offered nothing more than an approving smirk before returning to his project.
I went in the bathroom to pout while drying and fixing my hair. But as I did, I became frustrated with myself for my ridiculous behavior. I had the courage to parade around naked in front of my friends, even making them a y video in which I pleasured myself, but I could not just say what I wanted. I became determined. Dropping my hairbrush in the sink, I marched out to the office, slammed my hands down on his desk, leaned in to push my boobs together, and said, “I’m going to take a bath. Do you want to make a video?”
This was the first video we made together. Going in, I knew that I would love the attention. But soon I realized so many more wonderful aspects to his filming me. He made me feel like a real model. Instead of my just coming up with things to do for the camera as I took a bath, Brandon worked out the lighting and other elements to help the setting and atmosphere. He made a bubble bath, offered great suggestions, and gave me real direction. I felt so y and important. It was a different experience to have someone give me such help and attention. Sometimes he would pose me himself. I was already overstimulated by my y posturing in the soapy water while imagining how many people may one day see the video.
So, when his hand would incidentally caress me as he moved the bubbles around to cover or reveal, I became dizzy with titillation. I knew I was at the point where I would do anything he asked, and I started to fantasize about what that could be. But soon we were interrupted. We heard Mark enter the office. Brandon and I were both a little embarrassed as Mark was clearly amused and began making jokes. But I followed Brandon’s lead, and we kept recording as Mark went to the desk.
When we finished, I wanted to watch the tape, but Brandon said he would edit it and add music. I well knew the pleasure of being seen, but being filmed took things to another level. I was elated by my thoughts of having a tape, cut to the better parts, that was made with the approval and care of someone else, while not knowing how many would see it over what could be many years.
At one point while I was posing in the bath, I did think about my husband and possible divorce. This made what I was doing feel a little wrong. I learned something more about myself then, as those thoughts got me so much more excited. I had no idea what I would do next, but for the moment, I felt as y and free as ever.
