Messages from AnonyTITS – Exhibitionist & Voyeur – Free Sex Story

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Everyone doing anything sexual is over 18.

^^^August 19th, 2021^^^

“YOU! What are YOU doing here!” Emma shouted.

The twenty-one-year-old college-junior stared daggers at the tall, well-built young man.

JT turned toward the screaming harpy with a look of surprise on his face. He was a new student at Indiana University. A transfer from a junior college. He was startled by the vitriol directed his way. He recognized his accuser. It was a classmate from high school. Back then, he doubted she knew he existed. They’d never had a conversation.

He was among the roughly nine thousand new students admitted to the school. Many of them were here at CultureFest to meet people, watch live performances, receive Free goodies, and purchase entrees from a dozen food trucks. It was also an opportunity to learn about the six hundred-plus clubs and organizations at the school.

“You have some nerve!” Emma shouted. Spittle flew out of her mouth. She looked at the student manning the Habitat for Humanity booth and said, “You don’t want this guy. He’s a sexual predator. He beat up his date to the high school prom!”

TJ sighed and clenched his teeth and fists as he fought to maintain his composure. He slowly walked out of the area while hundreds of eyes were on him. He heard the crowd murmured, “Who is that guy?” and “He beat up some girl.”

^^^Flash back about two and a half years. TJ’s senior prom afterparty.^^^

Susie shouted, “Stop, TJ!”

A crowd appeared. They saw Susie sitting on the ground. Her top was pulled up, and since she wasn’t wearing a bra, her cupcake-size breasts were exposed. She was crying and bleeding from her lower lip. One eye was swollen shut.

They saw TJ kneeling over her. He had blood on his hand and shirt.

Cheryl yelled, “Leave her alone.”

Another classmate yelled, “Stop hitting her.”

Four guys grabbed TJ and dragged him away.

A half-dozen girls swarmed Susie. One yelled, “Get him out of here.” Another said, “Susie, you’re coming home with me.”

TJ struggled until Susie stood and said, “Go home, TJ.”

^^^two hours after TJ was accosted by Emma at Indiana University^^^

TJ was pounded beers in the backyard of his parent’s home with some high school buddies. He crushed the empty container, stood, and violently threw it into a trash can. It went in, clanged off the side, and crashed noisily against the metal bottom.

“That bitch ruined my first day at IU! Maybe all of them!” the brown-haired young man shouted.

“What bitch?” TJ’s Uncle Ernie asked as he exited the house and joined the group. He helped himself to a cold brew from the cooler, popped the tab, and downed half of it.

“Emma Carlisle,” TJ answered.

“The busty blonde who was the captain of your high school dance team?”

“Yeah,” his nephew said.

Harry, who played football with TJ in twelfth grade, said, “That’s the one. She’s smart and pretty but a pain in the Ass. A know-it-all. A stuck-up bitch. A feminist who’s always complaining about something. Sexism. Equal rights. Equal pay.”

“She’s the one who led the bracott at school,” Jerry, another high school chum, chipped in.

^^^three years ago^^^

Early one September morning, Emma got a message on her phone from Tim, concerning the upcoming protest at their high school. It read, “Hi let’s blow up the patriarchy.”

She responded, “Yes! I’m ready!”

The eighteen-year-old put on the tight tee-shirt imprinted with the words “Free the Nipple” over her braless breasts, took a photo and sent it out to the senior class.

She put a hoodie on to cover the shirt and had breakfast with her family. After she walked out of the front door, she sent a text that read, “Some people think women are the problem. That our bodies and our sexuality need to be controlled. We Are Not The Problem! Stop trying to control us and keep women down! We’re doing this to support Patty Cromwell and all women!”

She smiled as she saw many likes and messages of support. Some women sent out braless selfies. Some of the guys sent pics of themselves with Band-Aid ‘X’s’ over their nipples.

She drove to school and parked. She exchanged high fives and was cheered by her classmates.

When Emma entered the school, she took off her hoodie and walked proudly down the packed main hall braless in a white see-through tee-shirt. “Free THE NIPPLE” was printed in capital letters on the front of the shirt. Her boobs jiggled, and her hard, pink nipples were visible.

She shouted, “Time to stand up for equal rights!”

Her cohorts, Tim, Lee, Ivy, and Gil smiled and looked at Emma’s bouncing breasts and her pokey nipples.

“Looking pretty sexy,” Ivy said as she filmed her friend with her phone.

“Really?” Emma asked in response to her BFF’s comment.

Gil said, “Yeah. Isn’t that the point?”

“No,” Emma said as she tossed Free The Nipple tee-shirts to the boys.

Lee looked at his shirt and said, “Nice.”

“Don’t put them on until the end of first period,” she instructed.

Tim said, “We know the plan.”

Emma turned to Ivy and whispered, “Do I look like a hooker?”

“No. You look powerful. Sexy, not slutty,” Ivy reassured her. She handed Emma a folded piece of paper with the names of other women at school who’d agreed to participate in the protest.

“Thanks.”

Ivy opened her hoodie to show her friend that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her soft cotton tee-shirt hugged her breasts. The outlines of her areolas and stiff nips were visible.

“Check me out,” she said to Emma. Ivy shook her shoulders and made her tits wobble under her cream-colored top.

Emma smiled and tapped her friend’s breasts, causing them to jiggle. She teased, “Nice knockers.”

Ivy blushed.

Lee said to Emma, “Are you gonna put something over your tee-shirt before math class?”

“Why should she?” Tim asked.

“We have a quiz,” Lee responded.

Tim said, “One of the points she’s trying to make is that her body isn’t a distraction.”

“I know,” Lee said.

“And if it does distract you, that’s your fucking problem, not hers,” Tim explained.

“Racism, gun violence, and climate change are problems,” Gil said. “Whether a woman wears a bra isn’t something to worry about.”

“Yes, Lee,” Emma said, “I’m gonna cover up until after the quiz. I’m not giving Ms. Thomas the satisfaction of failing me.”

The five walk down the hall. Emma led the way with a big smile on her face and her chest thrust out. Her unfettered boobs bounced and jiggled. The sheer tee-shirt material allowed everyone a great view of her nipples.

A guy standing by his locker yelled, “Slut!”

Ivy turned on him and said, “Say that again, and I’ll punch you!”

The guy scurried away.

^^^

Lee and Emma sat beside each other in their math class. Emma waited until she finished the quiz before taking off her hoodie.

The teacher, Ms. Thomas, didn’t notice because her back was to the students as she wrote problems on the whiteboard.

Emma sat up tall, displaying her Free the Nipple T-shirt. She had trouble not smiling as her classmates whispered about her attire.

Other protesters removed their sweaters, jackets, or hoodies. It was not as obvious that the other four women weren’t wearing bras because they didn’t have sheer tops or the Free The Nipple phrase printed on their clothing.

The teacher turned around, saw Emma’s shirt and breasts, and tried to remain calm. She said, “Time’s up. Please pass the quizzes forward.”

The students sent the quizzes forward. Emma had a handful. She stood, walked up to the teacher, and handed them to her. The teacher said, “Thank you.” She forced herself to maintain eye contact and didn’t react to the bouncing tits of the braless student.

Emma slowly walked back to her seat with her hands on her hips. Her classmates noticed her loose breasts and the slogan on her tee-shirt. Many of them giggled. They all looked.

The teacher collected all of the quizzes and placed them on her desk. She looked directly at Emma and said, “Ms. Carlisle, please gather your things and go to the office.”

“Sorry?”

“Head to the principal’s office,” Ms. Thomas said as the students giggled.

“Why?” Emma asked. “I don’t wanna miss the start of the new unit.”

“You’re dressed inappropriately for school.”

“I’m wearing a tee-shirt and jeans.”

“Your shirt has a provocative statement.”

Emma played dumb and said, “There are no gang symbols, curse words, or pics of drug paraphernalia.”

“You’re wasting my time.” The teacher sounded annoyed.

“I’m not trying to do that.”

The teacher said, “You’re wearing a see-through top without a camisole or bra. The whole class is distracted by your jiggling flesh and the imprint of your nipples on the shirt. Your attire is causing a disturbance and interfering with the class’ ability to focus and learn.”

The teacher gave her an ultimatum, “Put your hoodie on or leave.”

Emma asked. “Why aren’t the students held accountable for their behavior? Their ability to focus and learn? And let’s be honest, we’re talking about the boys…Why shouldn’t the boys be responsible for their conduct?

“The problem isn’t nipples. You have them. I have them. We all have nipples. The problem is the boys’ lack of control because they have sexualized women’s bodies. They should behave, pay attention to your lecture, and treat me as an equal, a fellow scholar, and not an erotic play toy. “

“Step out now, please,” Ms. Thomas ordered.

“Yes, I have breasts,” Emma said. “What’s inappropriate about mine? They are the standard model whose function is to feed babies. If you’re going to kick me out of a class I have every right to be in, I should at least get an explanation as to what your problem is.”

“Your top, your manner of dress, is unsuitable for a classroom. In other settings, it might be acceptable. I believe you’re prostituting yourself for attention, and it’s disruptive. I wish you had more self-respect. I am asking you to make your way to Mr. Burley’s office. You can make your case there. Go!”

Emma looked at Lee. He said, “We’ve got your back.”

Emma slipped on her hoodie, gathered her stuff, and left the room.

She paused in the hall and sent a message to her gang “Ms. T kicked me out of class. I’m headed to Mr. B’s office. See you down there, guys. Ivy, be on call to get the bracotters. if needed.”

Ivy responded, “The braless brigade is ready.”

Emma went into the principal’s office. His door was open, and he was talking on the phone. He gestured that she should enter and have a seat. He completed his call, hung up, smiled, and asked, “So, what’s going on?”

Emma stood, took off her hoodie, and said, “I wore this to school today.”

The principal stared at her chest. He saw her boobs and nipples through the sheer top and physically flinched because he was so taken aback.

“Ms. Thomas said I was disruptive and told me I couldn’t be in her class.”

He looked at her hard nipples and forced his head to turn away. He looked out the door as if hoping the cavalry would come in and rescue him. He leaned back in his chair and said, “So, we’re looking at a dress code violation.”

“No,” Emma chuckled. “Nothing I’m wearing violates the dress code.”

The principal appeared uncomfortable. He looked at her briefly, looked away, and said, “Your top is see-through.”

“It’s white and lightweight fabric. I know for a fact there are other students at school today wearing thin white shirts, but they’re not down here missing class.”

Mr. Burley said, “Free the nipple?” He raised his eyebrows and focused on her face.

“It’s a political movement.”

“School is not the right place for this particular movement. You should address your concerns to the state legislators. They are the ones that write the laws, and currently, it is illegal in Indiana to Free the nipple.” He made a face showing his discomfort at saying ‘nipple’ to a braless young woman whose protruding nipples were too big to ignore.

“Isn’t school the place where we’re supposed to learn to be active citizens?”

“Absolutely, but not when you’re wearing nothing under your sheer shirt. Your clothing leaves nothing to the imagination,” he said as he looked at her breasts. Then, as if realizing he was ogling her boobs, he turned his head to the side.

He sighed, looked exasperated, and said, “What’s it going to be? Do I write you up and call your parents to come get you or will you zip up your hoodie and promise not to expose yourself in the rest of your classes?”

The principal’s secretary knocked and said, “Mr. Burley, I have three boys who say they are supposed to be part of this discussion.” She stepped back, and Lee, Tim, and Gil entered, all wearing Free the Nipple t-shirts identical to the one Emma had on. They were white and just as tight and sheer as the one the busty blonde wore.

Mr. Burley said, “Boys, this is a one-on-one disciplinary meeting.” He looked up and saw the identical tee-shirts, shook his head, and chuckled.

Emma stood beside the guys and said, “They’re not wearing anything under their shirts. Mr. B., how can you regulate my body and not theirs? It’s a double standard. What can you see on me that you also can’t see on them?”

His eyes drifted across the students and lingered on Emma’s chest long enough to make him blush. He stammered, “Ah. Ah. It’s a different issue.”

Emma said softly, “If it is, it’s your issue. It’s not a me-and-my-body issue. Bras are not mentioned in the student handbook. The school can’t force me to wear one. Also, there are a hundred other women in school not wearing bras today from every race, creed, and clique.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out the paper Ivy had given her. She said, “Here is a list of senior women not wearing bras.”

Mr. Burley looked at the names and saw what she had said was true. Listed were athletics and members of the drama club, girls in the marching band and school orchestra, people in the debate society, on the school newspaper, and BLM.

Emma said, “They’d all be happy to come talk to you. If you require me to cover up or if you send me home, you’ll have to do the same for all of them. Or you can send us back to class, which is a far more valuable use of everyone’s time.”

The principal sighed and said, “You make a good point, and I’m all for no further interruptions in the school day.”

Mr. Burley waved his hand and pointed at the tee-shirts they were wearing. When his hand stopped moving, he was pointing at Emma. His eyes were focused on her breasts. He looked up sheepishly. Emma was grinning because she’d caught him ogling her boobs.

He cleared his throat and said, “This was a well-organized and executed protest. I’ll give all the participants amnesty. What’s the endgame? What’s your goal?”

“We are upset the way Macon High School treated Patty Cromwell when she went to school without a bra. They shamed her and humiliated her for being female. For having breasts and nipples. They pulled her out of class for being a ‘distraction’ and sent her home when she refused to put on a second shirt and cover her nipples with Band-Aids.

“When has a boy, who didn’t violate the school’s dress code, ever been sent home because of what he was wearing or not wearing?”

The principal chose not to respond.

Emma said, “We stand in solidarity with Patty and all female students. Our ultimate goal is total equality between men and women. Equal rights, equal pay, and equal representation in all organizations, businesses, and branches of government,” Emma said.

“Some of that is above my pay grade.” the principal said with a chuckle.

“I want to address the school for fifteen minutes in mass in the gym or auditorium on woman’s rights and equality, respect for all groups, and empowering women. In return, the protest ends, and the boys will take off their Free The Nipple tee-shirts, and I will put on my hoodie.”

“I’ll give you five minutes to discuss your goals one morning over the homeroom speakers after the daily announcements. And you can have a column in the school newspaper to educate your classmates about women’s issues. The speech and columns must be shown to me first for approval. Deal?”

“Deal,” Emma said and smiled.

The students were ecstatic. They hugged and cheered. The boys changed back into the shirt they wore to school that day, and Emma put on her hoodie and zipped it up to her neck.

The group had big smiles on their faces as they left the principal’s office.

Emma paused, put her backpack on an empty chair, and said, “Guys, give me a minute.” She snatched a Free The Nipple shirt out of Tim’s hands, returned to the principal’s office, and leaned against the door closing it.

Mr. Burley looked up from his desk and asked, “Is there something else?”

“Yes. You are a worthy opponent, and I want to thank you for treating me as an equal. Not a kid or some loopy girl.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I also want to give you this shirt as a memento of today,” Emma said. “Maybe you’ll wear it and join us for the next protest.” She tossed it on his desk and slipped out of the room.

The door opened, and Emma came through. She smiled and picked up the tee-shirt. She sniffed it and frowned. She unzipped her hoodie, exposed herself again, and smiled as she used the cotton shirt to wipe her neck and upper chest.

She pulled her top up and did a boobdrop for him.

He stared at her bare breasts and large, hard pink nipples. She giggled and rubbed the shirt in her cleavage, on her nipples, and her underboob.

She tossed him the shirt, and he caught it. She said, “Now it smells like me.” His eyes were big and round

She came to him with outstretched arms and asked, “Can I have a hug?”

“Ah…Ah,” he stammered.

“Please!”

He stood and allowed her to envelop him with her arms. He hugged her briefly and pulled back when he felt her soft breasts pressing against his chest. She chuckled and leaned back so she could see his face.

They still had a contact point: their groins. She pressed her Sex against his hard-on, smiled, and said, “Mmmm. Nice one. I bet you make your Wife very happy with this big, hard cock. Use it on your Wife tonight. Put a blonde wig on her, have her wear the tight, skimpy, see-through Free The Nipple shirt, and pound her while thinking of me.”

He was stunned. Too stunned to speak or move.

Emma rolled her hips, pressed against his dick, and smiled.

Sweat appeared on Mr. Burley’s forehead. He swore his penis was in between her labia and that her pubic bone was rubbing his frenulum. He moaned, “Ohhh!”

She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I’m as wet as you are hard.” She kissed his cheek and stepped away. She put on her hoodie, zipped it up, and she waved over her shoulder at the stunned, quivering confused man with a huge erection as she left his office.

There was a rap at his door. It opened, and his Wife stuck her head in. She saw her husband sitting at his desk deep in thought.

He was pressing his hard cock against the center drawer.

She called his name twice before he woke from his erotic daydream and acknowledged her.

“Ah. Yes? Oh. Hi, Darling.”

She smiled, entered, and said, “I was in the neighborhood and popped in to say hello.”

Mr. B. stood, walked past his Wife, closed, and locked the door.

“I’m really glad that you’re here,” he said as he hugged and kissed his Wife passionately. He spun her about and forcefully leaned her over his desk.

“Oh!” she cried.

He hiked her skirt up, grabbed her underwear, and pulled it down.

As he went to work on his pants, she asked, “What going on?”

He freed his dick, licked his hand, and applied his saliva to her Pussy.

“We can’t…” Her line of thought was interrupted when he thrust into her.

“Ohh!” she squealed.

“Ahh,” he groaned as he bucked into her, driving his aching cock further and further into her until he’d bury his dick inside her.

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