Not What I Want

“Yeah, come on Jasmin, take that thing off.” Liz said, probably knowing it was all I was wearing, from the couch, her friends giggling beside her.

They’ve probably seen the videos of me that Liz took.

Jim squeezed my hand and shot me a knowing look.

Jasmin go now, it seemed to say.

As I turned to head to my room and change (by which I mean dress appropriately for once in these recent few weeks), but my mother had already returned carrying two cups of tea, one for me and one for Jim.

“Jasmin, where are you going?” My mother asked, “Your sister is right, you really do need to clean those feet before you ruin the carpet.”

I froze, releasing Jim’s hand and walked into the kitchen to clean my feet, my father greeted me over the top of the novel he was currently reading.

My mother followed me, having set the cups down and convinced Jim to take a seat opposite the couch in which my sister and her friends sat, probably waiting for the latest show of my humiliations

I’d already started cleaning my feet when my mother stood beside me looking me up and down with a smile, “Honestly Jasmin, it’s like you’re a completely different person these days… not that that’s a bad thing or anything, you do seem to be a lot more outgoing.”

That was one way of putting my recent nude escapades.

“Just…” my mother’s smile was suddenly replaced with slight concern, “Maybe reserve your body for a select few people. Especially if you want Jim to take more of an interest in you.” She added, her smile returning with a quick wink, “I’m guessing that explains your outfit?” She asked, looking me over once more, “Are you trying to maybe impress a certain someone.”

“Something like that…” I muttered, finishing up cleaning my feet, then I turned to leave.

“Hup!” My mother suddenly called out.

And with the sound came a sudden dread, my felt the hoodie leave my body in one swift motion. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. I felt the cool air on my pussy and arse first, and realised what was happening but was unable to react, then I felt the hoodie leave my torso, lifting my breasts up into the air, before letting them bounce free to just above my stomach, and sending a fresh sensation of pleasure course through me as the fabric dragged across my nipples and my breasts bounced hard against my body. And with the motion of the hoodie leaving my body came a moan, not a loud one, but loud enough for my parents to hear well enough. Loud enough for my dad to look over the top of his book once again, and for his eyes and mouth to open wide at another sight of his completely naked and exposed daughter. Only this time my nipples were fully erect, my pussy was fully engorged and red from the teasing (not to mention the public orgasm I had just mortifyingly lived through) of the day, and my flushed red face and chest, and not just from my embarrassment and humiliation, but also from my need for the next orgasm that I’d been craving.

I’d been on edge for so long now…

But I bit my lip, so hard I thought I tasted blood, but I held firm. I suddenly threw my hands up to cover myself and turned to scold my own mother for having exposed me yet again, but she was quicker.

She sighed, “I might have known.” She said calmly, “Jasmin dear, if you want to be a nudist, then by all means we will support you, but you have to let us know that you intend to practice it, and remember that there are strict laws in place, but there are other places that you would be allowed to practice it.”

“-I am not a nudist!” I said, a little too loudly, eyes wide.

The chatter had stopped in the living room, and the whole house was silent enough that you could easily hear a leaf blower going somewhere down the street.

My mother cocked an eyebrow, “Really?” She asked me, hands on hips.

“Honestly.” I said, careful to use my indoor voice this time, “I know you’ve seen… a lot of me, like this, recently…” I said, looking down with more shame as my parents subconsciously looked down at my naked body again, “But it was never my intention, it… just kind of happened… happens.”

“Is this to do with your breasts again?” My mother said firmly, her hands still in her hips.