Intimate Confessions of an Exhibitionist

INTIMATE CONFESSIONS OF AN EXHIBITIONIST

Good evening.

My name, not the real one, my nom de guerre is Candy.

It's not very original, but everybody says it sounds very horny.

Since I work in show business, I have another name,

just because my agent says Candy is a very common name

so he gave me the nickname "Velvet Tongue".

Every night, for almost two years,

since the impresarios realized that the opening to the world

wasn't another pack of lies, I perform two erotic shows here.

Some say it's porn, some say it's not.

I don't care what they call it, the fact is I have to get excited,

twist myself and come, if I can, twice a day.

It's not easy, I can assure you.

They always say I'm an exhibitionist, and it must be true

because I get horny when people see me naked in the middle of a party,

alone or with company.

I think my secret is that I'm a girl with imagination.

I start thinking of naughty tricks, of some of the good times I have lived,

of some of the most exciting situations.

I never believed in "wham bam, thank you ma'am".

Since I was a child I liked parties with brains.

I learned that from Pepi, my elder sister.

She's also like that.

I was living with her since she started working in a topless pub,

here, on the coast.

I started working in a boutique.

When she went to bed with a customer,

she didn't close the door so that I could see them from the hall.

That always got me very horny.

She's never told me that, but I know it.

And I have never missed one of her shows.

I think it was then when, unconsciously, an erotic

vocation in show business was born.

I think everybody gets as horny as I do

seeing these kind of things.

And later, when they get home, they should have a good party,

instead of watching so much TV.

I will never forget the first time Pepi left the door open.

She was with a very handsome Argentinian.

I sat on my sofa, in the darkness,

and the party began.

I want to put it in, it's really soft.

Your mine.

Come here, I'm gonna fuck you.

You're driving me crazy.

Son of a bitch, son of a bitch!

She's a whore.

You didn't expect a nun in a place like this, did you?

The silence... starts taking over the lounge.

Just a few women laugh, or say something.

Today I'm inspired.

Now, if we stop the music,

we would hear the flies.

I'm not in a hurry, I know I'm gonna electrify you all.

Just a little movement, my fingers caressing slowly.

Now everybody talks about communication...

I felt it with Pepi.

And I still feel it every time I think of that experience.

One night, she closed the door.

I knew she wanted to force me to open it, to show my face.

And I did do.

I opened it slowly... silently.

I knew they knew I was there.

But my heart was beating violently.

While I was caressing myself,

it felt like a time bomb ready to explode.

They hadn't looked at me, not even sneaked a glance,

as if they didn't know I was there.

Suddenly, Pepi looked at me with a smile on her face.

Don't stay there, come here with us.

Come on, silly! I will lend him to you for a while.

More softly.

Me too.

Come here!

When I moved my lips closer to his cock,

I felt an excitation like I had never felt before.

I still didn't believe that it was real.

Since I was a child I had spied on Pepi,

when she took a bath,

when she started to masturbate,

but we had never talked about it.

That complicity excited me like nothing else had excited me before.

What a lot of stupid things we do in our life!

After that savage night, I felt disgusted and awfully ashamed.

I didn't dare look Pepi in the face, and I left.

I went to a friend's boutique place.

There I met Peter Keens.

He was one of those psychologists who write about sex.

I was traumatized, I thought I was a scoundrel and crazy.

One day, I gathered my courage and went to see him.

He had bought a detached house on a lovely corner of the coast,

and he had shut himself away to write a new book.

Hello.

I don't know if you remember me. I want to talk to you.

Take a seat.

- You wanna drink anything? - Yeah, anything.

Just a moment.

Suddenly, I felt ashamed.

I didn't know how to start.

Maybe he'll get annoyed if I start bothering him with my problems.

Well, tell me about your problem.

I liked his demeanour, he made me feel easy and secure.

It was hard to start, but then, right away,

I told him about my feelings.

The relationship with my sister, even all about what happened that night.

I told him I've never had pleasure with a man like when

I was masturbating myself, spying on my sister.

And that pleasure had only been bettered when I was making love by her side.

And I was afraid that terrible excitation was due to her contact instead of him.

He asked me short questions, straight ones, I enjoyed answering them.

I also enjoyed hearing myself saying things I'd never confessed to before.

And I told him I had left Pepi's apartment.

I wouldn't be able to do the same I'd done that night.

I felt that while crossing the line of spying on her to real contact,

to the real sexual act, side by side with her,

something has been broken.

Something that was driving me crazy.

Now, I didn't know what to do, where to go.

Your story interests me, honestly.

- Why don't we talk at greater length? - I'm at your disposal.

I'll come here whenever you want.

If it is useful for you, you can stay here a few days.

You mean it?

Don't you mind if I stay here?

I can go to get my stuff and come back here?

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Those were unforgettable days of peace and serenity.

That man was so intelligent, so handsome, so understanding.

He never tried to lead me down the right path,

and he never read me the riot act.

On the contrary...

...his ideas, scattered here and there, were clearing up my mind.

I'm reading a simple book from a simple writer.

Hear what it says.

We spend our life doing provisional things

thinking they're a training for living.

In the dying day, we realize too late

all of that was definitive.

- It's wonderful, isn't it? - Why do you say it's a simple book?

I don't know.

It might be because it hasn't won awards.

Or just because it isn't any Best Seller.

So, in a sympathetic way,

he did his work and instilled his ideas in me.

I didn't have to be ashamed of my feelings,

of my deepest and forbidden secrets.

I learned to face them with courage, without any taboo from false morality,

inherited from perishable precepts.

If my possibilities of pleasure, of happiness,

lie in masturbation, in making love side by side with my sister,

in exhibitionism, or in homosexuality,

I must throw myself into those pleasures with abandon

and try to live them intensely.

His words calmed me down.

But little by little, I realized I felt a desire for Peter.

I had a desire to make love to him.

To try an experience that could change the course of my life.

I believed in him, I admired him.

He had never touched me not even made advances towards me.

That's why, that night, while he was working,

I exhibited myself in front of him to turn him on.

To show him I was offering myself without any limitation.

At last, when he got up and came towards me,

I wasn't able to stay calm.

Listen, don't take the trouble to show off like that.

There's no use in it.

Try to sleep.

Those words made me feel ashamed and humiliated.

I felt like the most insignificant human being on earth.

Candy, I must explain myself.

I don't wanna see you that way because of me.

I don't despise you.

I want you very much.

But there's something... you ought to know.

I can't love you.

Not only you, it's nothing personal.

I swear it.