Bad Judgment


This is my entry to the April Fool’s Day contest of 2019. It’s in the Fetish rubric, but it could easily just as well have been placed in Exhibitionism. I hope you like it.


I’ve always been smarter in retrospect. With my April Fool joke, anything would have been smarter. This year I was at my dumbest. To explain, I need to describe my relationship with Greg. We were in love. We finally took the step of living together, since we were almost always together anyway.

I would almost always stay the night during one of our more amorous encounters, and in the morning, I would walk the walk of shame back to my place. You’ve seen girls like me: heading home in the morning still dressed for a sexy night out with my man. It was all the doorman of my building could do to keep from smirking when he saw me, disheveled, still smelling of sex, desperately needing a shower and a change of clothes.

It just made sense to live together. So I moved in with Greg, and we saved my rent. In New York City, that’s a substantial saving. It made sense, even if it was amazingly stupid. You see, Greg is a great guy, and I love him, but he’s not perfect. His primary flaw is named Kevin.

Kevin is a jerk. He’s a first-class jerk, and Greg hangs out with Kevin a lot, more than I ever suspected. Kevin’s not respectful of women. His language is crude, and he has trouble keeping his hands to himself. Greg either cannot see it, or he doesn’t mind it, or — I shudder to say this — he likes it. In fact, when Kevin is around, which is much too often, Greg acts the same crude way Kevin acts.

Greg likes me not to wear bras. My breasts are so small that I don’t really need to wear them. Greg loves my breasts, which he calls my boobs. When Kevin’s around, Greg calls them my tits. Kevin and Greg both like to pinch my ass. It’s okay when Greg does it; he’s my lover after all. It’s not okay when Kevin does it, but it’s hard for me to stop him, especially when Greg encourages it!

Greg also likes to raise my top to check out my boobs. He does this multiple times a day. I don’t mind, I even secretly like it. I’m not shy about my body, and I like that Greg likes my breasts so much. Before Greg I was insecure about my breasts, them being small and all, but Greg’s obsession with them has cured me of that particular insecurity. I doubt anyone would understand how much that means to me. It means a lot.

It’s annoying though when Greg needs another ‘boobs flash,’ as he says, when Kevin is around. Greg is showing me off, and I kind of like it, but it sends a bad message to Kevin. Last week Kevin decided to flash my boobs all by himself and he lifted my blouse up to take a look. I got upset of course, and Greg scolded me for ‘being such a prude.’ I got really mad, but the next time Kevin helped himself to a boobs flash I just passively let him.

Actually, truth be told, all of these boob flashes consistently turn me on.

Kevin has been coming over lately when Greg was not home. It’s awkward. Last week Greg took a trip to Chicago, on company business. I wanted to come, since his company always puts him up in a nice hotel, but I had to work myself, and could not get away. Every night however we would facetime, and then we would use Zoom to have exhibitionist sex. I would masturbate for Kevin as he watched on his computer in a Chicago hotel room. Greg ate it up.

We had a special laptop, positioned in such a way that if I lay in the center of our double bed, the computer’s camera would see all of me. Greg liked that. In contrast, in his Chicago hotel room, all I got to see was Greg’s face and shoulders. I knew, however, what was going on further down, off screen, courtesy of his right hand. I found it sexy to know what was happening, but not to be allowed to see it.

Some nights Greg was busy, and we didn’t speak, Facetime, or Zoom. I got a little suspicious, especially when Kevin told me, with a tone of voice that spoke stronger than his words, that Greg’s old girlfriend Susanna had recently moved to Chicago and was lonely, since she knew nobody there. I was getting angry, but I figured Greg was a good man and he wouldn’t cheat on his true love, his boobs flashing girl, right?

I did remember that I’d learned that Susanna had D cup boobs, and that little fact did not help my (probably unfounded) jealousy diminish. Greg’s best friend Kevin was Facebook friends with Susanna, and reading her posts he reported to me that suddenly Susanna was no longer lonely. No names were given but he learned from Facebook she had hooked up with an old friend who was in town on business. This news put me in a funk.

Greg being away led to twice a day visits from Kevin. Even though I would answer the door and tell Kevin that Greg was away, it did not deter the visits. Here is how the first visit went.

“That’s okay, Sally. I came to see you,” Kevin said.

“Me?” I asked. I was surprised. Did he want to use me in order to practice being a boor?

“Yes, you,” he said.

“Oh. Well, illegal bahis alright, would you like to come in?” I asked.

Kevin came in, I gave him a beer, and we smoked some dope. Finally, I asked why he wanted to see me?

“I know I’m Greg’s friend,” he began, “but the three of us have been hanging out for months now, and I hope you consider me to be your friend, too. It’s what friends do, right? They get together.”

“I like you too, Kevin,” I replied, which I realized was a smaller white lie than I had thought it was, when I said it.

“How about a tits flash, baby?” Kevin said.

“Call it a boobs flash, and use my name, okay?”

“How about a boobs flash, Sally?”

I stood up, my head spinning around from the drugs just a bit, and I gave him a flash. It was no big deal, since Greg had ‘made me’ flash my tits in front of Kevin many times before, and as you no know, Kevin had helped himself to some flashes before too, to my consternation. I may have let the flash linger a bit too long, however.

The next time he visited, in the evening, he surprised me since I was not expecting anyone to visit. I was dressed in only a long T shirt and panties, because I had been doing my exercises. Greg had ‘trained me’ always to remove my sports bra immediately upon completion of my exercises. Even though my breasts are small, I still need a sports bra for comfort. Even small boobs bounce around with vigorous exercise. I cracked the door open only a smidge. When I discovered it was only Kevin, and since I was relaxed around him, I let him in and excused myself to “go become more presentable.”

“Hey, no need, baby. You look ravishing. Please stay the way you are. I’ll only be here a little while,” he said. True to his word, he stayed for only two beers and a small amount of smoking dope. I suspected Kevin timed his visits, because he always seemed to show up right after my exercises. Hence, I became accustomed to letting him in while wearing only a T shirt and panties. He always got a boobs flash, too.

The third day, he asked if he could have a ‘boobs’ show’ rather than a boobs flash?

“Huh?” I replied, not at my most articulate, I must say.

“Could you just take off your T shirt for a while? I really love your boobs,” he said.

Telling me you love my boobs is a great way to get me to do stuff. I’ve been complaining about their small size, but perhaps I should explain. Throughout high school I was so flat chested I looked almost like a boy above the waist. Granted, I would have been a boy without any chest hair, but you get the idea.

When I was sixteen I went on birth control pills, since I was, as they say, ‘sexually active.’ Suddenly my boobs emerged. They grew to a respectable 32B size, not too, too far away from being size 32C, but I still had a complex about having zero to tiny boobs, nevertheless. I know it’s my own psychological fuckup, but I even to this day I still feel as though my boobs are non-existent, so when someone like Kevin cannot get enough of them, well, it just makes me happy.

“Well, Kevin, if you really love them, then yes, I’ll take off my T shirt for you this evening,” I said.

“I really love them,” Kevin said, and he almost seemed to be drooling at the prospect. A few minutes later off came my T shirt. I had not thought this through, obviously, because suddenly I was hosting my lover’s best friend, dressed only in my panties.

Fortunately, Kevin was the prefect gentlemen. Except for the de rigueur occasional ass squeezes, which were quite sexy since they were only through my panties and not my jeans. Kevin was respectful. His crude language and snide remarks seemed to vanish.

The next evening when I greeted him in my by-now-customary T shirt and panties, my T shirt came off within the first five minutes. Kevin stayed longer than usual, and he made us some margaritas, and after three margaritas and some really good dope Kevin had brought along, I was feeling no pain. It was then that Kevin asked if he could touch my boobs.

I knew this was wrong, but dammit I was horny and enjoying all of Kevin’s idolizing attention and flattery, so I said, “Well, if you really want to?”

“I really want to,” he said.

I should explain. I know a lot of us girls don’t get any erotic thrill from breast fondles. Mostly it’s psychological if they get any thrill, not physical. Most of the girls I know fake an erotic reaction just to please the man. That’s what all my girlfriends say.

In my case, who knows what it is? I obviously have a complex regarding my boobs, so maybe it is only psychological, but for me, the pleasure of a boob fondle is so real, I truly believe — in my case — that it’s physical.

When Kevin first touched my boobs, I got an erotic thrill as if an electric shock had gone straight from my nipple to my clitoris. He touched them so gently, and so lovingly, I got super aroused. I also think the taboo nature of letting my boyfriend’s best friend be intimate with me, there in one of illegal bahis siteleri my primary erogenous zones, was part of the thrill.

When Kevin began to lick and even gently bite my nipples, I groaned with pleasure. He kept it up and I began to moan, the way I do when Greg fucks me. Kevin pulled me to a standing position and he fondled my tits amazingly and then he kissed me. OH MY GOD I thought, I’m kissing Kevin! This seemed more taboo even than the breast fondles, especially given the way we were kissing, which was anything but innocent.

At my suggestion, Kevin removed his clothes above the waist, so that while we stood and kissed, my boobs would caress his wonderful chest hair and rippling chest muscles. It felt divine: comforting, but hopelessly sexy, too. As we continued to kiss, and rub our chests together, I put my arms around his neck, and his long arms went down to my buttocks. A few minutes later, his hands went under my panties, and he squeezed the cheeks of my ass. Boy, did that feel nice.

When Kevin’s hands began to explore my little brown flower, I became nervous. I’m one of those unusual girls who actually enjoys anal sex from time to time, especially when the man’s cock is not too thick. This made it highly erotic for me, especially when Kevin’s finger gently entered my anal cavity.

I pulled away from Kevin. “We’re getting carried away, Kevin. I love everything you’re doing to me, but I’m Greg’s girl. I think it’s time to call it a night.”

Kevin looked at me. I couldn’t read his face. “When does Greg get home?” he asked.

I didn’t know what he was thinking. Was he calculating how many more days he had to get into my panties? Jeez, what a thought! What was wrong with me?

“Not until Monday,” I said.

“That’s what I thought,” he replied. “Monday is April 1.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Want to pull an April Fool’s joke on him?” Kevin asked.

It was obvious he had idea. “I sure do. Spill, Kevin.”

“How about I use a marking pen and write ‘Kevin was here,’ on your boobs?” he asked. “That should get him jealous! If it gets him too jealous, tell him it was you who wrote it, and say April Fool!”

“He won’t get jealous, Kevin. I’ve already flashed you my boobs tons of times,” I said. I was still feeling an erotic high from our kissing and from Kevin’s wonderful hands all over my body.

“Yes, but never long enough, until now, to write on them. You have a point, though. Is your pussy shaved clean?”

“What??!! Kevin, what’s wrong with you?!” I exclaimed. I was angry at his crude, rude, and disrespectful question.

“I was just thinking I could also write ‘And here’ on your pussy. I didn’t mean to offend,” he said.

“I have a trimmed bush, if you must know, but really Kevin!” I said.

“It might get to him, don’t you think?” he asked. “I could do your anus, too,” he said.

“Yes, doing my pussy and my asshole would most certainly get to him, but for you to do that I would have to let you see my most intimate parts, and that’s not going to happen. Let’s stick to the boobs,” I said.

“Sure. Do you have a marker?” he asked. “I could bring one over tomorrow.” I was still standing in front of him topless, wearing only panties, I realized.

“I’ve got a marker, but you’ll have to do it at the last minute,” I said.


“Well, we Facetime, Zoon actually, every night, and well…” I had let my voice trail off. It was too embarrassing to tell Kevin all that we got up to in the privacy of our bedroom and Greg’s hotel room in Chicago.

“Oh, I get it….I could do your pussy and ass now, though, if you like?” Kevin said.

“No, you can’t, he might see…You’ll have to wait…”

“Oh! Sally, you just keep getting more and more wonderful. I’m impressed!” Kevin said. I actually blushed.

“Anyway, I told you we’re not doing them. My private parts are going to remain just that: private. Besides, if you wrote something like that, it’d be a lie, and I won’t lie to Greg,” I said.

“It would just be a joke, not a lie, Sally,” he said.

“Well, it’s not going to happen. The boobs, yes, it’s a good idea. No to my pussy and ass. Got it?”

“Sure,” he replied, but I had the impression he was thinking that he had five more days to get me to agree, and he was going to keep trying. If he did, I had the sinking feeling that he might succeed. He had already managed to get me almost naked and to kiss me and turn me on almost to the point of submission. My goodness! I thought.

As I had those last thoughts, my phone dinged. The text was from Greg, of course, saying this was a good time for us to have our nightly Facetime call. I explained this to Kevin.

“I suppose you want privacy. I could wait out here, and you could talk in the bedroom?” Kevin said.

“We use Zoom,” I said. “Maybe you should go home. It’s getting late, anyway.”

Kevin looked at me blankly when I had said Zoom. “It’s like Skype, only easier to use. Also, you can record canlı bahis siteleri the calls. Greg likes that because…” and then I shut up. I had already said too much.

“I get it,” Kevin said. “Greg likes to see your boobs, so you undress. No worries, Sally. I’m seeing them right now.”

“It’s more than just my boobs, Kevin,” I said, blushing.

“Oh! Oh, wow, can I watch? Greg need never know, you know,” Kevin said. “I’ll be off camera, so to speak, and remain as silent as a church mouse.”

“It’s more than just nudity. Sometimes, most times, really, he wants more…” I said.

Kevin was quick. “Oh God, Sally, This I have to see! You absolutely have to let me see

you get yourself off for Greg!”

“It’s not a good idea, Kevin, and besides I’d be too embarrassed,” Sally said.

“It would mean so much to me, Sally. I’ve never seen a girl get herself off before, I mean, other than in porn. Least of all a girl with such a hot body and such great boobs as yours,” Kevin said.

I don’t know if he added ‘great boobs’ in some clever strategy or whether it was all genuine, but dammit, it worked. “Greg must not know,” I said. “He must never know. Even ten years from now you can’t tell him. Do you understand?”

Why did I agree to let Kevin ‘eavesdrop?’ I’ve thought about it a lot since, and I guess it just turned me on to have another man, even Kevin (of shit — I’ll be honest — especially Kevin) watching me be virtually intimate with Greg. It all comes down to that: I found it hopelessly erotic.

Kevin agreed much too easily. It was easy to do, too. He just hid behind the computer, standing across the bedroom from where I was on the bed. I put my T shirt back on, so that I could sexily remove it for Greg, and now, as it turned out, secretly for Kevin, too. I launched a Zoom session with Greg and Greg logged on almost instantly.

“What took so long?” he asked.

“Sorry about that. I was in the middle of a work project when your text came,” I lied. “How’s the conference going? How’s Chicago?” I clicked the button to record our Zoom session. I always do that, I’m not sure why. I use the ‘professional version,’ thanks to my company, so I can store the recordings on the Zoom website.

“Take off your T shirt, will you doll face?” Greg said. I did. I planned to try to do so sexily for my audience of two men. “God, I love your boobs.”

“Thanks, Greg. I love you, too. Wait a minute, is there someone with you there? I see a shadow,” I said. My alarm showed in my voice.

“It’s a colleague. He’s been wanting to meet you. Come over here, Mark. Can you see him now, Sally?” Greg said.

“You can’t possibly have wanted me to remove my T shirt while your colleague Mark is watching? What’s wrong with you, Greg? ” I said, just a bit incredulous.

“Sally, I’ve been bragging about you constantly, and I’ve showed Mark some of my pictures. He’d love to see you in the flesh, and Zoom is the next best thing,” Greg said.

“You showed him the X rated pictures?” I asked. My voice was too loud. It showed my annoyance, bordering on outrage.


“Those are just for you, Greg. You know that!” I said. “We’ve discussed it. You agreed!”

“Look, Mark is in Chicago. You’re probably never even going to meet him, and besides I know you love to show off your body,” Greg said.

“I do? Since when?” I asked.

“Oh Sally. It’s obvious to everyone, except possibly to you,” Greg said.

“How is it obvious? Who besides you have seen my naked body?” I asked.

“Your numerus boyfriends before me, for one example,” he said.

“They don’t count. If you fuck a guy, of course he’s going to see your body!” I said. Was I dealing with a moron?

“There were a lot of them, Sally,” Greg said.

“So what? We’ve had this discussion. They were before I met you. Since I’ve met you nobody’s seen my body except for you! That’s the point here, you know,” I said, not bothering to hide my annoyance. My anger, actually. Greg had no right to bring up my promiscuous past in front of his colleague Mark (and unwittingly, also for Kevin, I realized. I metaphorically gulped).

“What about Kevin? How many times have you flashed him your boobs?” Greg asked. Was Greg too dumb to let this go?

“I flashed my boobs to Kevin at your behest. I did it to please you, you moron!”

“And now I want you to do it one more time, again to please me if you want to see it that way. This time, it’s for my horny colleague Mark, here,” my boyfriend said.

“Are you trying to turn me into a slut?” I asked. “Maybe your personal slut? A hot wife?” I asked, mostly in anger.

“I didn’t even know you knew the term ‘hot wife’!” Greg said. “Did one of your former lovers try that? To turn you into one?” I couldn’t see, but I just knew Greg’s pants were tenting as he asked that.

“I’m ending this call. I don’t know how many times I’ve flashed Kevin. Maybe you do?” I asked.

Kevin, in the background, held up ten fingers and then six more. He was smiling like an imbecile.

“Kevin knows, of course, how many times have you flashed him your boobs. We could ask him.” Greg said. Kevin was smiling in the background off camera, and giving me a thumbs up, the horndog.

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