Lexi - Under the Bleachers

Author's Note

This is our first story. Lexi and Jace are fictional stand-ins for me and my wife of three years--and yes, this scene was inspired by something we actually did. Lexi is an exhibitionist and Jace is a voyeur who loves watching her expose herself. The closer and longer the view, the better for both of them. Writing it together has brought back every delicious, daring detail.

Hope you enjoy.

--K. C. Black

Lexi: Under the Bleachers

By K. C. Black

---

Lexi hadn't always known she was an exhibitionist. But once she figured it out--really figured it out--it unlocked something wild inside her. The idea of being seen, of being exposed, wasn't just thrilling--it was essential. She didn't want to be caught. She wanted to be watched. Wanted to orchestrate the moment, guide the gaze, burn herself into memory.

Jace understood that about her. He didn't just accept it--he craved it. Their pillow talk had turned into planning sessions, brainstorming ideas like lovers designing sin. Places she could be seen. Ways she could be posed. Fantasies that made them both ache long before they ever happened.

The bleachers idea came from one of those talks. A baseball field out of town, a crowded game above, and a hidden space below where someone might just get the perfect view.

They'd even tested it once before--Lexi in sheer panties beneath a flirty skirt. The wind had done half the work, but it was more than that. One man had wandered underneath, lingered too long, and stood just feet away. She'd stayed still, posed deliberately, her back arched, letting the sun pour between her thighs. Through the nearly transparent fabric, her pussy lips pressed clearly, shamelessly. She'd felt his eyes locked on her--watching, devouring. And she'd wanted more. Wanted no barriers. No sheer. No panties. She remembered wishing she'd been bare. That raw, unfinished ache stayed with her. The buzz had lasted for days.

But today was different.

Today, there were no panties.

Today, she was going all the way.

---

Lexi and Jace had a rule: never in their own town.

That's why they'd driven two hours on a sweaty summer afternoon, winding up at a dusty little baseball field with sunburned bleachers and a crooked sign that read Pine Hollow All-Stars -- Home Game Tonight!

Lexi stepped out of the car in a sundress -- breezy cotton, no bra, no panties. Just her golden skin, bare beneath the thin fabric. She looked flawless in the late sun: honey-blonde hair catching the light, soft curves gliding with every step. She turned to Jace and smiled -- a slow, knowing smile.

"Second row," she said. "That way if someone stands beneath me..." She trailed off.

Jace didn't need her to finish. His cock twitched hard against the seam of his jeans.

The bleachers were already filling with tired parents and distracted teens. A couple of boys wandered beneath the stands, tossing pebbles at rusted beams. Lexi walked like she owned gravity, her hips swaying with lazy confidence. Her sundress rode up just above mid-thigh with every step, catching flickers of wind that teased the bare skin beneath.

She climbed to the second row and sat slowly, deliberately -- as if every movement were a silent performance. She leaned back, ass planted firmly on the edge of the aluminum plank. Then she parted her knees, just enough for air to find its way between her thighs. The dress fluttered. Shifted. Danced.

From below, one of the boys paused. He tilted his head, then nudged the other. Lexi leaned forward, pretending to search her purse. The fabric fell forward -- and her bare, glistening lips peeked through the V of her thighs, already flushed and wet.

She felt it.

The thrill of exposure. Not just seen -- watched. Noticed. Desired. The subtle hunger in those eyes below her, and the aching heat rising between her legs.

She shifted forward a little, letting her back press against the seat behind her, arching her hips upward. Her legs slid wider.

Let them look. Let them memorize.

---

She shifted again, slow and deliberate, her body humming with purpose. Bracing her hands behind her on the warm metal, she lifted her hips off the bench -- a small motion that exposed everything. The cotton of her sundress slipped further up her thighs, revealing bare, golden skin that shimmered faintly with sweat.

She reached behind herself, fingers trailing over the soft dip of her lower back, then down. She found the full curve of her ass, cupped it, and paused -- not for hesitation, but for effect. Then she pulled.

Her cheeks parted wide.

Her pussy opened like a secret--slick, flushed, and wanting. The inner lips glistened with a wet shine that caught the late sunlight, pink and swollen, a drop of arousal trembling at the base before falling free. Her clit peeked out, tight and straining. But above it, revealed fully between the pull of her hands, was her delicate, twitching asshole.

Tight and pink, it puckered with tension, the rim subtly glistening with heat and sweat. It pulsed -- soft, alive, and inviting -- flexing slightly in time with her quickening breath.

The air reached it. She felt it swirl directly across her rim, then down to her slick slit. The sensation was unbearable in the best way -- like being kissed by the wind itself. Every nerve in her core lit up.

From beneath the bleachers, the boys were frozen in awe.

One stepped forward unconsciously, his sneakers crunching gravel. The other gripped the vertical beam for balance, his face a mask of raw, youthful hunger. One of them held up a cellphone, and Lexi caught the glint of the lens out of the corner of her eye. He was filming. Or snapping photos. Close-up. Just feet from her ass. The thought lit a fire inside her. She was being captured--immortalized--her most intimate places preserved forever in his private gallery. A keepsake he'd stroke to for years. She posed harder, held longer, her asshole flexing open again, her lips parted in full bloom. She was a living centerfold, and he was her audience of one. Her pulse thundered.

They were silent, reverent-- as if they'd stumbled into the presence of something sacred and obscene all at once.

Lexi tilted her hips further back, adjusting her pose so her folds parted wider. She wanted them to see the full spread: her lips, open and gleaming; her puckered star, pulsing like it knew it was being worshipped.

She imagined their view. Two teen boys staring directly up into the most private places of her body -- watching the twitch of her asshole, the glisten of her juices, the soft folds trembling from her heartbeat. Let it haunt them, she thought. Let this image be the one they'll chase for the rest of their lives.

She could feel it: her own scent rising -- musky, ripe, unmistakably aroused. Her nipples ached beneath her dress. Her breath came faster. Her thighs began to tremble.

She was close.

So close.

She didn't need to touch herself. The air, the eyes, the power -- it was enough. Her body tightened, her pulse pounded, her asshole clenched in tiny, twitching flutters. Her breath hitched in her throat. She bit her lower lip.

And then she pulled back.

She exhaled hard, not from restraint, but from command. She wasn't done. Not yet.

Above her, a soda can popped open. Laughter rang out from somewhere in the bleachers. The world went on -- unaware that just beneath, she had nearly come just from being watched.

She didn't flinch. Didn't close her legs. Didn't look away.

She offered.

---

Lexi finally let go, releasing her cheeks, letting the folds of her body fall back into soft shadow beneath the skirt. Her hands rested on her thighs. Her chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate rhythm.

She didn't know if they were still watching.

She hoped they were.

She stood with a sensual stretch, the cotton of her dress catching faintly on the sheen of her thighs. Her legs were still shaky, but her stride was steady as she ascended the bleachers one slow step at a time.

Jace had watched it all.

He sat frozen in the third row, his hands gripping his knees, his cock swollen and dripping inside his jeans. His shaft throbbed, damp with pre-cum, straining against the denim. Every moment of her display -- the spread, the twitch, the almost-orgasm -- was seared into his brain.

She reached him.

Didn't say a word.

She stepped between his knees and stood there, looking down at him, her body still flushed and glowing from the attention. Her dress clung to her thighs. Her breath was steady. Her eyes burned.

Jace looked up at her, undone.

Lexi leaned in close.

"I almost came," she whispered, voice like smoke. "Just from knowing they saw."

Jace swallowed hard. "I almost did too."

Her lips quirked, the faintest smile.

"Next time," she said, "maybe I will."

Then she sat beside him, legs crossed, casual and radiant, as if the world hadn't just stopped to worship her.

The buzz of the ballgame resumed in the background.

But Lexi's mind was already ahead--thinking of glass elevators, full-length mirrors, and long hotel hallways with strangers.

Thinking of what comes next.