Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ï>żExhibitionist Wife by StoryTeller07 Exhibitionist Wife Ch. 07 Hooked on playing her husband's games. At the beginning Philip had talked his wife into innocently showing herself off in a park. It didn't take long before she was dressing like a slut, on one of his adventures. After playing naughty exhibitionist games for a few weeks, she suggested they play a game. Felicity wanted to go to a bookstore cafe with her husband, to recreate a sexy episode they'd had together. It was an innocent exhibitionist adventure, with the important condition, that it was safe. Philip was to follow and keep her out of trouble. He was surprised that it was her idea, though he knew why she was now hooked. They had great sex when returning home after a game, and the excitement would last all week. Obviously she needed his protection, as there was no telling what an onlooker might do, when she was flashing them. She'd tried to tell him how fired up it made her, but he didn't understand. He still didn't know how helpless and vulnerable she became, when so aroused, she felt so close to bursting. How could it be explained to her husband, she might let a stranger do anything to her, once aroused enough. The danger of this happening was one of the things that inspired her to play his games. The thought of being taken by a stranger after flashing him, aroused her. That was difficult to accept, but it was true. It had to be admitted, they were becoming her games, as an addiction took hold. Reaching the point when she badly needed to play, and badly needing to experience the exciting sexual tension, was a worry. It was a mix of fear and arousal that spurred her on. So much so, she was worried about being obsessed over these perverted games. *** Walking into the busy cafe, she found a free table, and knew straight away which chair to take. It was obvious which was the best seat. It faced an older man, well dressed, around forty, maybe forty-five. If he was gay or simply showed no interest, she would be mortified. She looked up to see the man already eyeing her. It boosted her morale by confirming she was still desirable. Her husband was sitting nearby with a good view of her across the cafe, so she felt safe. If the man approached and became a nuisance, she could call upon her husband for help. The wrap around skirt was a bit short, though not extreme. It was warm out, so a baggy t-shirt was acceptable. When she sat down, her legs were caught either side of two table legs. This had been chosen on purpose, from knowing what happened last time. She fidgeted to get comfortable, while trying to pull her legs together. The crotch of the white panties was showing, as well as stocking tops. Examining a menu through her long hair, she could spy the older man's attention was all hers. Fidgeting for a moment, she stood up looking for a more suitable seat, but there wasn't another table available. Instead, she removed the light jacket, and dropped it over the back of the chair. She pulled at some cotton, breaking it. With a wiggle of her hips, and an adjustment of the skirt, her panties fell down. She looked shocked, and quickly sat down with them pooled around her ankles. Picking up the menu, she buried her head into it, studying it closely. The man saw what happened, and she hoped he thought it an accident. With a foot she kicked at the panties, trying to hide them. A quick look around to see if anyone noticed, and she reached for them. Fingers flickered over them, but they were tantalisingly out of reach. Another try flicked them under the chair. She straightened up, not wanting to draw attention to herself, or her panties. A furtive kick pushed them further under the table, in a hope no one would see them. Of course the man opposite saw everything, so she hoped her acting skills were enough for him to think it was a mishap. Glancing at her husband showed he hadn't noticed her contrived mistake. He was talking to an attractive waitress! The young woman was smiling, nodding, and touching her hair. Without saying much, the damn girl was flirting with her husband! Well, so what, she had a handsome older man to flirt with. Though in her game, she couldn't be so flagrant, she had to be underhand for it to mean anything. Her thighs were still separated, either side of two table legs. Unable to pull her legs together, the stranger had a view of her pussy. It had been shaved bare for this game, and therefore for him. Her breathing rate increased on thinking she had shaved her pussy for this stranger. Nervously she looked around, hoping no one had seen the embarrassing accident. She preened her hair, and fiddled with an earring. Looking up over the menu, she noticed him staring at her. He smiled knowingly, and she quickly looked away. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks, but she couldn't help checking to see if he was staring at her. She looked down, and away from him, but kept looking back. She squirmed on the seat, looking embarrassed. Was this enough? Should she get up and walk out, leaving her panties under the table? The damn waitress was back flirting with her husband. He wasn't looking after her at all. His attention was absorbed by the big breasted girl, flashing her eyes at him. She wriggled her hips at some corny joke he told her. The hussy leant over him to wipe the table, and wiggled her breasts at him! He was looking down her blouse! A scream might wake him up. He needed reminding she was there. The man was staring at her, with an expression that said he knew she'd lost her panties. It was also obvious that she was heated up from his attention. She unthinkingly squeezed a breast, while squirming on the seat. A few lessons could be taken from the flirty waitress. Standing up as though unable to take any more, she gave him a sultry look, and walked to the rest room. On the way, she glanced at her husband, expecting him to follow. He should be watching her, keeping her safe! The waitress was back, laughing at another of his corny jokes. Even if he hadn't been distracted, it was a bit much to expect him to know what she wanted. Right then it was his protection she badly needed. There was only one toilet, and she didn't lock the door. Her panties were where she left them, on the floor beneath the chair. Leaning against the sink, gripping it tight, she tried to bring herself under control. Why was it she became so helpless when aroused and close to an orgasm? Why was it she became so excited when playing these naught games? The door opened and shut behind her. There was hardly room to turn around, and so she didn't. Her husband knew what she needed. Without saying a word he pushed his hands up the baggy t-shirt, and gripped her breasts. This wasn't needed, for she was way beyond foreplay. He fondled her breasts, and pinched her nipples. At last he pulled the tight skirt up around her waist. She bent forward as far as she could. Her face was pressed against a mirror, with her bottom pushed out. She was ready for him. She was a bitch in heat, ready for anyone who wanted to screw her. If all the men in the cafe lined up behind her, she would take them on. The buzz of fear and arousal pushed aside her morals, leaving only an overpowering desire for sex. She was sex on legs. Her long legs pointed up to where a man was to go, to satisfy her. That's what she wanted. A man must fill her with cock, to satisfy her, to complete her, and to fill her with red hot cum. 'Yes! Fuck me hard!' she quietly implored. He was massaging her sex and ass. She didn't need this, she just wanted him to get on with it, and fuck her. 'Please! Fuck me, please!' she begged. A loud pounding on the door, and a fierce voice said, 'Open up, or I'll kick the door down!' 'My god!' Felicity gasped. The voice belonged to her husband! She quickly straightened up, and turned around. The man was standing close, with her panties dangling from a hand. 'Please, sir, can I have my panties back?' she politely asked, knowing the silly voice came from being in shock. 'A reward for finding and returning them is due. Don't you think?' he pointed out. 'I, err, yes, I suppose. I need them, I'm desperate, anything,' she murmured. 'A kiss,' he said, looking devilish with an arched bushy eyebrow. 'Very well. I agree,' she quietly spoke. She puckered up, and closed her eyes. 'You should have asked where the kiss was to be,' he said. She felt him lift the t-shirt, and gasped. Still holding her eyes tightly shut, she pulled at the t-shirt. He gripped it tight, and when she tried to pull it back, it pulled sideways, away from her breasts. 'I didn't think, err, please, you can't. I can't let you,' she quietly said. Her husband hadn't been so bold as to kick the door down after all. Even down the corridor away from the main room, everyone would hear the door breaking open. He wasn't brave enough to face the owners, and expose his wife to ridicule. 'You alright, Felicity,' her husband urgently asked. 'Yes, alright,' she told her husband, through gritted teeth. 'Alright then,' the stranger grinned. He knew she didn't mean him to go ahead. He sucked on a nipple and she groaned, as though in pain. 'Owww! Please! Yes!' she excitedly responded. The stranger knew she was fired up. Her nipples had been ripening while she sat in front of him, clearly pushing at the thin cotton. They were pleasantly firm, ready for sucking, and biting. Her slight push to his shoulders did nothing, except pretend she didn't want this. The moaning and whispers, confirmed how carried away she had become. Backed up against the wall, her legs were either side of the pan. His hand went to her crotch, to confirm she wore only one pair of panties, and they were in his pocket. Janice rose up on tiptoe, but that was a pathetic attempt to escape his fingers. 'You sure you're all right,' Philip urgently asked. 'I'll come in a minute,' she told him. The stranger thought so too. 'I can't do this. Please, let me go!' she complained. He'd guessed from the beginning she was playing a game with her husband. They were the right age, and married long enough to need extra excitement in their sex life. Her husband was building up courage to make a scene, and he didn't want that. He pulled her t-shirt down, and held her shoulders while she pulled the panties up. He wound an arm around her, patted her bottom, and kissed her lips. 'Off you go then. You are such a sexy slut, I don't know how I'm able to let you go,' he whispered. He flattened himself up against the wall. She returned the kiss, then opened the door. 'You've got my jacket, good. Let's leave this way,' she told her husband. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him further down the corridor to the back door. It didn't occur to her to ask if he paid the bill. She just didn't want him going into the toilet, and finding that man. In their car she took up the usual position, with her face buried in his crotch. Having so much sex, meant he needed prompting, and she desperately needed him. Having to pay attention to the road, he couldn't see what she was doing. He certainly felt every lick and suck to his sensitive cock. He heard the squelchy sucking noises, and her murmurs of contentment. What he wanted to hear was her dirty sex talk, and the groans of pleasure. Pulling into a side road he braked, switched off the engine, and pushed her over onto the back seat. She fell onto the floor, but managed to bring herself together enough to scramble onto the back seat. He tumbled out the driver's door, and into the back door. She was away with the fairies, so he had to pull her onto his lap, pull the crotch of her panties aside, and thrust in. A great gush of air whooshed from her mouth, as though she were a blow-up doll with a leak. *** Monday afternoon promised to continue as a boring day. Her husband wasn't due home until late, as he was away on a course. When the doorbell rang it startled her out of a fantasy. The short walk to the door didn't completely clear her mind of the daydream. Whoever it was, it wasn't her husband. 'Oh! Sorry, James. I thought it was Philip. He's due home soon,' Felicity explained, as an excuse for opening the door in her dressing gown. A little embarrassed at being caught undressed, she nevertheless let him in. 'We have some details to discuss, about the job on the studio extension. He said to come around. I hope it's okay if I wait?' James asked, as he walked in. 'Err, yea, sure. I was just ironing a dress,' she said, explaining away not being dressed this late in the afternoon. 'That's okay. It's what being a kept woman is all about. Lazy days, like being retired,' he smiled. Following her into the well lit dining room, revealed a nice silhouette of her shapely figure. He could see all the curves were in the right places. Philip was a lucky man to have such an attractive wife. James was thirty, a few years younger than Philip, and much younger than Felicity. It didn't stop him thinking of Philip as a lucky man. Sinking into the leather sofa he looked up, and almost sighed out loud. A bright light illuminated the ironing board, but it also shone through the thin cotton gown. It was a breathtaking sight. She was wearing stockings and suspenders with a thong. He looked up to see if she had noticed the lascivious expression, sure to be plastered across his face. He was glad to see her concentrating on pressing a seam. Her breasts jiggled beguilingly in a tiny bra, with every bash and push of the iron. He'd heard Philip liked to show off his trophy blonde. He used her to distract customers when entertaining them at a favourite restaurant. His trick would be to ply them with drink, while Felicity sat pretending to find their jokes funny, and business anecdotes interesting. James couldn't scoff at the ploy, for it had worked upon him too. On this last deal the profit margin was all for Philip, leaving him breaking even. Or if he was honest, just a small profit was made. Still, this was some consolation. Watching her tits jiggling over the ironing board, with her back to the light, was a rare treat. Concentrating on business had meant little time for a girlfriend, or even for nights out clubbing to find one. He was feeling frisky. 'I'm sorry James. I'm not a very good hostess am I, would you like a drink?' 'Only if you're having one,' he answered politely. He could see her mind working the idea through, with brow crumpled into thought. Perhaps she was wondering what Philip would want her to do. He watched the expression change. 'Sure, why not,' she said, and gave him a big smile. Before she could move away from the ironing board he stood up. 'I'll get them. You're busy enough without me distracting you.' He poured a small whiskey with a large ginger for himself. A second glass tinkled with ice, for a large gin, and a small tonic for her. He still hadn't decided whether to wait, or leave, but the drink would delay the decision a little longer. Perhaps the drink might make the decision for him. 'It's hot work ironing.' 'Here, let me get you some more ice,' he offered. He always wondered if the dumb blonde routine was real, or an act, dreamt up by Philip for the customers. Perhaps he would stick around to find out. He freshened up the drinks. 'Philip is pretty tight in business, but I guess he gives you a good allowance for clothes and things,' he joked. He watched her grimace. Obviously a sore point had been discovered. 'No. He's tight fisted with money all round. I've never got much to spend. He gives me a small allowance. I hate that he insists on taking me shopping to buy my clothes,' she sighed. A nice treat for Philip, James figured. 'Have you thought of modelling? My agency pays well for catalogue work.' 'Oh I couldn't, besides, Philip wouldn't approve.' 'So you do as you're told. Philip is like that with everyone. He has the knack of getting everyone to do what he wants.' From her expression he realised another sore point had been found. 'He doesn't have to know. We have contracts with some very upmarket magazines.' He mentioned a couple of names off the top of his head, hoping they were impressive. 'Really, I read them! They are ace. I like the clothes, but they're too expensive for me.' 'You get to keep the clothes you model, you know,' he said. 'Really? That sounds great!' she beamed a big smile at him. He fired her enthusiasm by naming fashion designers, and making other names up. 'Do you think it possible? I mean. With no experience, could I? Don't they need those size zero figures?' 'That's just the cat walk models you're thinking of. A good figure like yours is needed for the magazines.' He could see her thinking about it. 'I could recommend you to my partner. I'm sure you would do well.' He watched her squirm a little, obviously thinking over the offer. He was trying to work out if it would be the money, or the idea of getting one over on Philip that caught her imagination. Maybe she would be hooked on the idea of being a fashion model. 'What size are you Felicity?' he asked, and she looked embarrassed. Still concentrating on the ironing, yet achieving little, she told him. 'I'm thirty-eight, twenty-two, and thirty-six. Do you think that would be OK?' James held his breath for a moment. He had suspected as much, but the numbers were cold compared to the hot body before him. Trying to remain calm he nodded as though in thought. 'What bra size are you,' he daringly asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. 'I'm a 'D' cup. Though in some shops I'm a double D. You don't think I'm too top heavy do you?' she asked, pushing them out at him. 'You look great, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it. A real woman is needed for magazine shoots, not a skinny girl,' he proffered his opinion. 'Oh, good, thank you,' she blushed. 'I need to see your skin tones. That would be the important thing. No tattoo's?' he asked. 'No, no marks of any kind,' she mused. He watched the frown develop. It was a crinkled forehead thing when trying to decide on something. 'Just slip the gown off, and I can tell you straight away if your suitable or not,' he casually spoke. 'I'm not dressed. Yes, I'm wearing underwear. You may have seen plenty of underwear, but not mine,' she admonished him. 'How Much? Well, I'm not sure. You won't tell Philip will you? Alright, err, no one else either, alright?' she hesitantly asked. 'I won't tell anyone, of course. The agency is very discreet,' he promised. He again stated an inflated figure for a photo shoot, which swung the indecision. Taking her time in loosening the belt, he wondered if she would back out at the last moment. It was agony looking away, but he casually took out a notebook as though ready to make an appointment for her. 'Don't laugh at me, promise!' she quavered. He looked up to see the gown held open. She stood there hiding her face in long blonde hair, revealing a figure to die for. Philip had obviously chosen the underwear. This time he hadn't been stingy with money, though the designer had been sparring with material. 'What do you think? Be honest,' she said. He cleared his throat. It felt as though his tongue would stick to the roof of his mouth. 'Do you mind if I make a suggestion? Slip off the robe and walk around. You look nervous, and it might help when you go for an audition to get the feel for it,' he said, trying to keep his voice calm. 'I'm not sure. I am nervous, too nervous to go to an agency,' she said. 'You look nervous Felicity, because of inexperience. With some guidance you'll gain experience, and lose the nerves. Practice now, and it will help you to gain a little confidence,' he smoothly spoke. He placed his fingers together as though he were director, framing a shot. 'You look great. You have a beautiful figure, just perfect for magazine work. I'm confident you'll pass an audition. Here, take this. We pay for the audition. This includes the travelling expenses, makeup, and the hourly fee.' James said. He placed a wad of notes on the ironing board. 'All that money for an hour!' she exclaimed. 'Sometimes it's more, depending on the magazine. It depends on the designer as well,' he explained. He still wasn't sure how far she would go, but the sight of money lit her eyes. 'Okay! Why not? I know you, so it might be easier than in front of a stranger. Just some practice,' she sparkled. Shrugging off the gown she turned and bent to place it on a chair. James's eyes widened to take in the baby smooth skin of a peachy bottom. The little piece of silk clinging between those soft cheeks was well worth the price, however much it cost. 'Just walk around casually. Forget about posing, just act naturally. I'll just freshen up these drinks,' he said. After recovering from her exposure, he needed a drink. For a moment he wondered if he dare introduce her to the fashion photographer at the studio. She bent over to select a garment to iron. The ice in his glass clinked noisily. He started breathing again. Sitting on the sofa he gazed at her. Through the metal legs of the ironing board, was her crotch. The thong gripping her golden triangle was twisting one way then another, as she pressed down on a pair of jeans. Somehow the show was so much more tantalising than a lap dance. A frown revealed how much thought was going through her pretty head, and it wasn't over the pressing of those jeans. 'I've got some of those magazines somewhere,' she eventually said. Rummaging around the room, bending over, peering onto draws, she eventually found a few back copies. He was thoroughly hooked on watching her wiggling ass, and bouncing breasts. She sat next to James to flick through the advertisements. He took hold of her face and turned it one way then another. 'I'm not sure which is you're best side, do you know?' he asked. It was so tempting to lean close to steal a kiss from those pouting lips, that he only just resisted. She shook her head, creating a golden halo of floating long blond hair. It was becoming too much for him. Felicity was wondering when he would cum in his pants. She'd never thought of this before, but making him cum was dominating her thoughts. A lot of men thought she was dumb, just because she was a big breasted blond. Teasing him was causing her to be so aroused, it was difficult to stop. All she had to do was keep him at arm's length, until Philip arrived home. Placing his hand upon the magazine to stop the flickering pages, he said, 'There. That's you. Only, you're more photogenic. A better figure too.' Sitting so close, with the stockings and suspenders needing to be stroked, he found it hard to resist. He did resist, but now breathing was becoming difficult. 'Do you really think so?' she cooed. 'Yes! You're more beautiful than her. I can tell with your colouring you'll be more photogenic. In a glossy magazine you'll look fantastic,' he enthused. The woman cuddled her bare breasts, modelling a pair of panties. Obviously so expensive they warranted a half page advertisement. He pulled out a wad of notes from the same brown envelope to fan them out over her stocking clad knees. 'That is what she earned for an hour's work,' he lied. 'Oh! Does she work for you?' Felicity exclaimed. 'Yes. Not all the time, just part time,' he said, making it up. 'Really? Could I look that good in a photo-shoot?' she asked. 'Sure. I'll prove it to you. You can make that pose, and we'll compare. I'm sure you'll feel more confident after some practice,' he coaxed her. 'Oh I couldn't! Wearing underwear is one thing, but half naked, I just couldn't,' Felicity demurred. 'You've just got to settle it in your own mind. Everyone has to start somewhere. Keep the money, all you have to do is model some clothes. Here, I'll add this just to model some underwear. What do you think?' he said, laying a bundle of notes on the ironing board. 'I could use that sort of money, that's for sure,' she hesitated. He watched her brow crease in thought, hoping to discover what was motivating her. She sighed heavily. Slowly she slipped both arms out of the bra in a coquettish movement, to slip the catch around in front. He couldn't help staring. He had planned on taking it calmly, not staring like this. She was so caught up in the thought of modelling, she didn't notice him at all. Standing behind her before an ornate guilt mirror, he held up the page for them both to compare. The real woman compared with the model most favourably. Holding onto her breasts with an arm, she brushed hair back in imitation of the model. There was no longer a frown, but a faraway look in her eyes. 'You see what I meant. You need to exude confidence. You have a beautiful body and need to be confident with it. Shoulders back. Put a hand into your hair. Hold it up to the light. Put your other hand on a hip and say, 'Damn! I'm beautiful,' he told her. She giggled unable to say the line, but did place a hand on a hip, uncovering a pair of magnificent breasts. He decided she hadn't been acting after all. She was a dumb blond. How could so much loveliness be entrusted to so little brain? Out of a bra, breasts don't usually look so large, but hers seemed to have grown with the freedom. How natural breasts stood out without support was hard to fathom, and how she balanced them over such a small waist, was a wonder. 'Keep your shoulders back, and set your face in a proud pose. Lift your chin. Now walk across the room. That's it. Strut around like a catwalk model. You're magnificent and proud. You have a body worth showing off,' he encouraged her with a flourish. He watched every move. 'You'll have to change quickly in the studio to get as many outfits photographed as possible. Each session is expensive in studio time. Practise putting on these things now,' James told her. She gulped the offered drink, then bent to the washing basket. Pulling out a man's shirt, she slipped it on to pose for him. He took imaginary photos. He helped her off with the shirt and handed her a dress. Working through the laundry basket he snapped away, with clicking noises, and lots of encouragement. 'That's good. Bend over with your arms out straight, as though you're flying. Lift a leg onto the chair, and turn your head,' he said, and continued with plenty of flare to the instructions. Keeping her moving all the time, kept her mind busy. He still managed to admire her body between changes. He kept her dressing and undressing, in and out of clothes, until another bra and panty set was fished out of the basket. He steadied her with a hand to her shoulder, while she slipped off the panties. Momentarily, all she wore were the stockings and suspenders. He made little of this, while trying very hard not to spoil the flow. Anticipating the next garment to be chosen for her, she pulled off the bra and panties to throw them on the heap of discarded clothing. Looking into her eyes he told her, 'Well, that's enough for now. We need to catch our breaths. Here, cool off a moment. Drink this,' she downed another large gin and tonic. 'That was fun. Would it be like that all the time?' Felicity asked. She was panting from moving around so quickly, though she knew it was also from being worked up. It was obvious he thought she was just a dumb blond, and playing up to that image was stimulating. More than anything, she loved bending over before him, in just a thong. Standing so close to an attractive, near naked woman, was dangerous. He wanted her to go with the flow, to maintain the excitement, and not give her time to think. 'Sometimes you will be just waiting around. The lights need setting up, the cameras checked and loaded. There's a lot going on before you can start,' James explained. Now he was on familiar ground. His partner was a photographer, and he helped out occasionally. Greg did some glamour sessions, but mostly family portraits. 'Calm,' he told himself. Again he pulled a wedge of money from the brown envelope. He noticed how his hands were shaking. They were sweating, or maybe it was from when he mopped his brow. 'For a session like this, you would earn this much.' It looked as though she had forgotten her nakedness. Indeed, she had grown confident, and maybe she would make it as a model. He placed the money on the ever-growing stack of bills on the ironing board. She hadn't been very enthusiastic at first, though now, she was naked and enjoying it. He figured all she could see was the pile of money. Felicity discreetly glanced at the clock. Philip was late. Her dressing gown was close, ready to pull on and cover up, when he arrived home. The money would go into the bottom of the laundry basket. They were new notes and didn't look as though they needed ironing. 'You sure this is all for me?' Felicity giggled. The bimbo act was more blatant now, though he hadn't noticed the change. He believed what he wanted to, or rather, whatever his penis told him. 'Sure, it's all for you,' he smiled. 'But there's so much money, I can't count that much. I thought you were just showing me how much I could earn. As I haven't earned it yet, I would owe you so much, you'd practically own me. There's no choice, I'll have to do as you tell me,' she said, in a little girl lost voice. 'Don't worry, we'll work something out. As you are so nice, how about earning this and the rest,' he said, and spread out all that was left on the ironing board. 'Dad was always particular about paying my way. Never leave a debt unpaid, he would say. So, I guess, whatever you think. That is sooo much money, I'll have to do whatever you want,' she sadly spoke. 'Why so sad? I thought you were enjoying yourself,' he said. 'It's all that money. I didn't think about it properly when you were giving it to me. I know what a man wants, when I have to do as I'm told,' she quietly spoke. Uttering those words heated her up another notch towards an orgasm. Practically offering herself to him was so very wrong! It showed how stoked up she was. Another glance at the clock confirmed he should be home. It was frightening to find how vulnerable she was. Where was Philip? She needed him right now. 'No need to be sad. The money is yours. I've enjoyed guiding you, as I think you would make a great model. If you feel you need to pay me back, then come to the studio tomorrow. To make you feel better, I'll take a kiss, as down payment,' he smiled. It was a strained look, as he was feeling more aroused than she was. So much so he hadn't noticed her put on dumb act, or that she was over heated, ready to boil over. Though he could see she was ripe for the taking. All he had to do was help himself. Felicity didn't want that, she never did. It was the danger of being so close to being taken that excited her. 'I don't think I should, though, I do owe you so much. All your advice, and all that money. I guess, don't have a choice. Yes,' she whispered, and pouted her lips. When he wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close, she was starkly reminded of how much bare flesh was on show. Ending up nearly naked meant it had been a good game, but not when in a man's arms. Over his shoulder she could see the clock, and willed Philip to walk into the kitchen. He turned her head to touch lips. Without a hint from him, she opened them. His tongue invaded her mouth, to battle with her tongue. Knowing it was wrong, she nevertheless couldn't help kissing him back. It had been a game to see how aroused she could make him, only she had lost control instead. She was lost to her own passion. His hands wandered over her naked body, and she let him. She wore the last set of underwear tried on, and there wasn't much to it. His big hand cupped a breast, and squeezed. He didn't know how to handle her as well as her husband. Somehow she would have to stop this. It wasn't right to let her husband down so badly. Philip was late home, but that wasn't his fault. She'd miss-timed the whole game. Why did she start this when knowing how vulnerable, and carried away she became. James could do anything he liked to her when so heated up. Flirting and showing off her body was one thing, but doing it, that was so terribly wrong! 'No, we can't! Oh! Oh!' she began to protest, then moaned. His hand cupped her sex, and squeezed. A finger pushed up between her engorged lips, and caught her clitoris. He almost lifted her off the sofa with one large hand. The fingers creased the crotch of her panties, and creased her sex. An orgasm was building from deep within her belly. A last rational thought was that he could do whatever he liked with her now. She just didn't care. The kitchen door slammed, and Philip called out. 'I'll put the coffee on, do you want one?' he shouted. 'Oh, my, god!' Felicity murmured. They both jumped up off the sofa. Felicity grabbed her gown and pulled it on inside out. The money was brushed from the ironing board, into the basket and covered with clothes. 'Hi James, hope you haven't been waiting long. Has Felicity kept you entertained?' he asked. He crept in earlier, when seeing the man's car parked close by. He'd watched them for awhile, then slammed the kitchen door when things got out of hand. Felicity had warned him about losing control, but it was difficult to believe. He'd seen it with his own eyes, and would have to watch her more closely from now on. 'I brought the money round. No need for a receipt, or invoice. No tax to pay then,' James nervously spoke. It was a close call. Having his wife's sex in his hand would have been hard to explain away. Deeply kissing her, while fondling her breasts would have been just as hard. His erection had dropped as soon as he heard Philip in the kitchen. Felicity stood before the mirror brushing her hair. She was fluffing it up to become a halo of blondness around her head. Philip got the message. She was pretending to be a dumb blond. Whatever game she started out playing, it had ended in near disaster. James's words sank in, for her to realise he cheated her. He hadn't been paying her to model, it was a payment for work Philip carried out. 'You bastard!' she whispered. 'You had some fun, don't deny it,' James anxiously told her. Philip came back in with a coffee, so she had to let it drop. 'I'll see you around. There's another project coming up, and I could use your help,' James said. They shook hands and James left. 'Well! You were in deep trouble,' Philip laughed. 'Sorry, Philip,' she tried in a little girly voice, knowing it wouldn't work with her husband. 'Some people will take advantage and not give a damn. We've met some nice people and some strange ones, while playing games. You've just got to learn to be careful, and try to remain cool,' he told his wife. 'I'll try, Philip. I really will. I just don't think I can,' she moaned. 'We'll play a game, where you will have to try,' he said. Deserving of his anger, yet not receiving it, she was hesitant to ask for sex. A couple of times she nearly demanded he take her, right there and then. 'I'm so hot, Philip,' she complained. He finished the coffee, and told her, 'We are going out to a restaurant. I shall give you a game to play, when we get there,' he teased. 'Alright,' she sullenly spoke. 'I know. You're so worked up, you want me to fuck you. You'll just have to be patient, and I warn you, be on your guard,' he smiled. Exhibitionist Wife Ch. 08 While the husband is away. Felicity held back her passion for when her husband returned home, promising herself not to use a toy, or even her fingers. He'd been working away for two weeks, and it was getting to her. As soon as he got home they would play one of his flashing games. The idea that she was obsessed with flashing her body to strangers was absurd. Of course she'd heard about addiction to alcohol, tobacco, and other drugs, but not to kinky sex. It was still a mystery why she was letting him display her body to strangers. After a strict upbringing, and years of decency, it figured she should be highly moral. Instead, she had thrown all her standards out the window, with her clothes. Picking a dress from the naughty wardrobe in their playroom, she went shopping. The cotton holding the seams had been cut with a razor, so the dress was only just holding together. A visit to the mall was innocent enough. Nothing was likely to happen as her husband hadn't set anything up, and without him it was too dangerous. She wouldn't do anything, it was just the possibility of something naughty happening that excited her. Outside the mall she looked for where the car was parked. It was windy, and she imagined her skirt blowing up around her hips. It was too long for that, and merely wrapped itself around her legs. In the olden days a flash of ankles would have been enough to turn heads, but not in this racy age. She laughed at the thought, and took note of the way the breeze swirled around the mall entrance. Gusts of wind blew straight up, on this side of the building. A short flared skirt would do the job, looking like an accidental flash of her panties. In a dream world, Felicity tripped on something, from not looking where she was going. As usual an exhibitionist fantasy had taken hold, leaving her vulnerable. 'Ooops!' she exclaimed. Unintentionally she had stepped on the hem. 'Honestly!' she said to herself, she really hadn't meant to do this. The cleverly altered dress unwrapped, fell from around her, and flapped away in the breeze. The cotton holding it together was frayed, she knew this, but hadn't intended to break it. It was just the thrill of it possibly happening that was wanted. 'Help!' she gasped. This was no good, as no one was around, and not even her husband was there to protect her. 'Come with me! You can sit in my truck while I fetch your skirt,' a stranger told her. He grabbed her hand and led her away from the mall. What was she to do? He'd been behind her and saw it all happening. Had it looked like an accident? She only wore a g-string, so he had a good look at her bottom. It was merely a cup holding her lips, with a strip of material between her cheeks. He certainly did see her behind. As a fully paid up submissive, she let him take her away. This was dangerous, yet very exciting. 'Don't worry, honey, I'll get your skirt, or get you another,' he promised. What did he expect in return, she wondered. The nice way he spoke allayed her fears, though anyone could be aroused by a pert bottom over a pair of long legs. Her bust was big enough to encourage most men to be naughty. She had an inspiring figure, which had been proven many a time while giving an impromptu show. Though there was always a certain amount of planning by her husband to keep it safe. It was what might go wrong that was dangerous, and exciting. He opened the passenger door of his truck, helped her in, and shut it behind her. The view of her ass when helping her up into the cab was special. The piece of ribbon pulled tight between her cheeks, and he was sure he spied her asshole. The piece of nothing covering her pussy was even more interesting. As she reached up with a leg it pulled tight over her crotch, almost disappearing between a pair of swollen lips. Of course, she knew he held her in place for a moment, but didn't complain. She wasn't self-conscious over flashing her body, so she was probably a lap dancer, or something. Maybe it wasn't on purpose, but she was locked in, trapped! Watching him carefully, she decided he really was trying to find the skirt. He turned back to her, and pointed up in a tree. There was her skirt, caught in upper branches, a long way out of reach. He trudged back and climbed into the cab. 'My purse! I dropped it when the skirt flew off,' she exclaimed. 'We'll drive by there and hope it's still where you dropped it,' he gruffly spoke. He couldn't help glancing at her lap. The little piece of material covering her sweet spot was almost nonexistent. The thought of those long legs gyrating in front of him, performing a lap dance, was exhilarating. Hell! What he would pay for that very short strip tease. Not that he had ever been into such a den of iniquity, though he was certainly tempted now. They cruised slowly toward the mall exit, and stopped, but couldn't see it anywhere. He got out and looked, but returned empty handed. 'My keys were in the purse, and my credit cards,' Felicity complained. 'Don't worry. We can cancel your credit cards, and get new ones sent. Do you have a spare set of keys?' he asked. 'Yes, but they are inside the house, how am I to get inside?' she asked. 'I can do that. First you need something to wear. My daughter will fix you up. I can get some tools at the same time, to get you inside your house. Then I'll drive you back to your vehicle, and you can start the day again. No harm done,' he smiled at her. Felicity then realised they were nowhere near her house, and he hadn't even asked where she lived. She looked him over and hoped he was on the level. She was in his hands, though not just yet, and hoped not to be once in his home. Joe helped her out of his truck, with a fine view between her legs when she swung them around. They parted slightly, enough that he saw a prominent camel-toe. Was she aroused by him, or maybe by losing her clothes, and being naughty in front of a stranger. One of his neighbours often found an excuse to flash someone. On a Saturday she would wash the car, and always drown the t-shirt, as though it were a wet t-shirt contest. When she wore cut off jeans, they were far too small, fitting her like a second skin. All the men in the neighbourhood knew of the free Saturday show, so decided to mow the lawns, and tidy the garden. Wives couldn't decide whether to be pleased or not. He pointed her in the right direction, and followed. The movement of her cheeks with the muscles flexing, was entrancing. He had a nice home. It dawned on her that he mentioned his daughter, not a wife. If his daughter was here, she would be safe. If not, maybe she was walking into danger. 'Here's a telephone book. Look up your bank and phone them. It's important to cancel your cards as soon as possible. I'll get you something to wear,' he smiled. He was reassuring. Maybe he'd gone to get a weapon, but she thought it highly unlikely. It didn't take long with the bank, as she spoke to a woman who sympathised with her. Felicity described the moment of losing her skirt, and the woman showed concern over how awful that must have been. The woman promised to handle everything without a fuss, and she was not to worry. She also took down the stranger's number and address, just in case. 'Here's a coffee. I dumped some clothes for you on the sofa. Do you want me to turn my back,' he asked. Felicity laughed. 'You've seen it all, so why worry. You're a nice man, and thank you for all your help. I'm not stripping off, I'm getting dressed,' she laughed. 'Well, still, you know,' he mumbled. 'Think of it as a reward,' she smiled. What in hell was she playing at? The poor guy might have a heart attack. He was approaching fifty, a dangerous age. Felicity could feel the heat of her pussy, and a tingling feeling in her tummy. The feeling of hotness running through her limbs was another warning sign, meaning she was close to an orgasm. This was not a good idea, as she might become so fired up, she lost control. It was only dangerous if he took advantage, and it didn't look as though he would. Taking off the blouse, she turned around, for his modesty rather than hers. A dress wouldn't pull over her large breasts. A stretchy top just covered her. Pulling on a skirt, she found it far too short, especially in these indecent panties. She shimmied out of it, explaining why. A longer skirt wouldn't go over her hips. 'How old is your daughter?' she asked. 'Eighteen,' he said, after licking his lips, and clearing his throat. Not feeling so bad, she tried on a dress. If she could get into a teenagers clothes, she was doing fine. Unable to get it over her bust, she pulled it up her body instead. This time it pulled into place, just enough for her to smooth it down her body. It was a bit tight. Turning one way then another in front of a mirror, she decided it would do. It showed off all her bumps and crevices, and clung to her body. 'Does this look all right?' she asked. 'Lady, you look gorgeous!' he exclaimed. 'I've not seen a more beautiful woman in years,' he added. 'Thank you, you're being kind,' she fluttered a reply. 'No, let me assure you, I mean it,' he smiled. 'You look pale, are you sure you're alright,' Felicity genuinely asked. 'Never felt better,' he grinned. 'You've made an old man very happy. I'll get my tools so we can get into your house, and find your spare keys,' he said. They both felt closer and more relaxed together. The conversation continued light heartedly over trivial everyday things. They soon reached her house, and he had the back door open without damage. The next stop was to pick up her car. 'Thank you so much for your help,' Felicity said, and hugged him tight. She was hot as hell, but felt safe with him. A part of her wished she wasn't. An itch inside needed rubbing. Felicity suddenly realised how much she needed her husband. This was the dangerous moment, feeling sexed up, without a prospect of relief. He hugged her tight, and said, 'Thank you. I feel good, helping a damsel in distress,' he laughed. Felicity had got away with stripping in front of a stranger and now felt more confident. Most men behaved gallantly, so all she had to do was avoid the rough types in those old rundown malls. It looked as though she had made a decision to play the game alone, without her husband as chaperone. *** Next day Felicity parked up and got a bus into the city centre. It was a nice warm day, good enough to wear cut-off shorts, and a loose top. As a teen it would have been acceptable, only she was thirty-eight. She was lucky to have inherited young smooth skin, and a slim build. Her breasts looked large over a slim waist, which attracted men's attention. She'd found that out while playing these naughty games. Philip wasn't with her today, so she was going to take it easy. Wearing dark sunglasses, she could observe men watching her, and hopefully without them knowing. Keeping them at bay wasn't easy when she was excited, but without her husband around, she would have to be careful. The danger was that she might become overheated, and lose control. It was that danger that was addictive, though it hadn't been fully realised yet. A need for reassurance that she was still attractive, also kept her playing the game. Showing off her body attracted men's attention, and that was simply wonderful. The top had large arm holes, and if a pose was careless her breasts would show. It was cut off to leave her belly bare. Panties couldn't be worn with the cut off shorts, as so much had been cut away. They pulled between her cheeks, highlighting her cute bottom. A small portion of soft ass cheeks was temptingly on show. They were more indecent in front, as they pulled between puffy lips. High heels set off her long legs. Tempted to wear fishnet tights, it was thought that was going too far. With her hair in a pony tail, and the right makeup lightly applied, she could pass as being ten years younger. Basically because none of the men would be looking at her face. Her sex had blossomed while waiting among a group of men to board the bus. A helping hand pushing her onto the bus, was warming her up. A hand had gently and unobtrusively pushed her bottom. Not pulling away meant, whoever it was, almost carried her onto the bus by her crotch. There was standing room only, and she was trapped between two big workmen. Remembering last time she played the game, this was going to be fun. The guys were facing her, sandwiching her between them. The movement of the bus over a rough road, gave them an excuse to rub up against her. The swaying of the bus rubbed their bodies against her. The bus shaking up and down over a junction, bounced her breasts around. It spurred them on to rub their hardness over her bottom, and belly. Felicity wondered how far they were going, in distance, and touching. Holding a purse in one hand and a parasol in the other, it looked as though she was helpless. The bus braked suddenly and she was driven into the one standing before her. The bulge in his trousers pressed hard into her belly. The guy behind her pushed the erection in his jeans between her cheeks. Imagining that he must have a big powerful cock, made her shiver with fright, and lust. 'Next stop?' the one behind her asked his friend. More people got on crushing them together. The workmen were over six feet tall, and almost buried her five-five. The guy from behind couldn't hold back any longer, and pushed his big calloused hands into the arm holes of the t-shirt. He lifted her up by her breasts, then slowly lowered her down the length of his cock. It was still in his jeans, yet it was still a potent symbol. The guy in front of her nodded to him, indicating she was up for it. Felicity was glad she had worn shorts. The thought of him letting his cock loose, and lowering her down the length of his cock, was tremendously stimulating. With her panty crotch flipped to one side, he could have been inside her before there was a chance to object. In her imagination she felt his big cock taking her. She didn't know who he was, his name, or even what he looked like. Yet he held onto her breasts, kneading them wonderfully, occasionally pinching her nipples. Her legs felt weak. The guy in front keenly watched her, in case she screamed, or struggled. Enjoying being a sex doll between the two big men, she merely breathed heavily, almost panting. No objections were coming from her. It didn't matter what they did to her, there still wouldn't be a complaint. It was dangerous to let herself become so compliant, so helplessly dependent upon their good behaviour. Had it been right to assume nothing too outrageous could be committed in front of everyone, on a crowded bus? Rubbing themselves against her body, could be ignored by others if noticed. Actually taking her would mean someone taking action. It suddenly occurred to her that she was in such a state, they could take her off the bus! Is that what was meant, when one of them mentioned the next stop? Were they planning on taking her somewhere? So worked up was she, there was no common sense, or decency left. Felicity was so worked up, there was no willpower to object. Imagining trotting along on high heels, led away by these two hunks, Felicity became deeply aroused. The bus sharply pulled to a stop. The guy behind her lowered her to the floor, with both their trouser lumps rubbing her. Both ass, and her tummy, had been sensitised by their hardness. They pushed their way to the exit, and stepped off the bus. Damn! She had been worked up and abandoned. This is what is meant by being edged! Just a little more attention and she would have been completed. A quiet concentration upon an orgasm would have been perfect. Among all these tightly packed passengers, it would have been so very naughty. On shaking legs she alighted at the next stop, having to push through a crowd of schoolboys. Remembering only too well what happened last time, she dare not stay on the bus. Her husband had to rescue her from them when she became so carried away, she was letting them play with her body. She'd been so worked up, they could do anything they liked with her. Taking this as a warning, she walked across the street to get a bus back to her car. Standing there in an agony of frustration, she calculated how many hours until her husband returned to her bed. Taking a deep breath, wanting to clear her mind of arousal, she took in the scene around her. *** Old brick buildings predominated, and it was possible those men worked here. Either pulling them down, or refurbishing them. They could have led her away, to entertain them and their work mates. The workmen could use her all day, one after the other, until they all had her, then start over again. Maybe each of them would have a chance to use her mouth, her pussy, and her asshole. She'd be sore and aching when they let her go. Or would they keep her as a workers benefit? All the site workers, continuously fucking her, keeping her as their fuck doll. Felicity had a small happening, and sighed. Damn! The image of those men using her was so real! *** Looking up and down the street, she hoped a bus would arrive soon. A poster caught her eye. A woman dancing? A naked woman dancing? Looking away she scanned the street. No one she knew was here, or likely to be. It was midday, but a few cars were in the car park, and the bus wasn't due for some time. Walking across the street was almost painful. The tight jeans rubbed her crotch, and especially distracting was the pressing of her button. After a stranger had rubbed her ass with his rough work jeans, she knew exactly how much of her cheeks were on show. Too much! A glance at the poster, followed by a swift look up and down the street, and she stepped in. Entering from a bright sunny day, it was difficult to see in the gloom. Low lighting hid the men sitting around a dance floor. A woman was lit by a glaring light, while she shimmied out of what was left of her clothes. If Felicity took a moment to look properly, the men's disinterest, and the dancers apathy would have triggered a walk out. The place was dirty, and needed redecorating. Instead, her imagination raced away with the idea of flashing her body to men. Men eager to see her naked body, wanting her, enthralled by her, brought on a feeling of being young and attractive again. That she was young and attractive to most, if not all men, wasn't considered. The men in the bar at lunch time were unlikely to show her, or anyone else, respect. Walking up to the bar, she asked about dancing. 'You'll have to see the manager, I'll give him a ring,' the guy said. On the phone he paused to look her up and down. He continued murmuring into the receiver. He nodded to Felicity, and then nodded at a door marked private. Taking the hint she walked up to it, and into a new career. 'What's your name?' the small man asked. He had small hands, which fiddled with a pen, rolling it around on a blotter. The desk he sat behind seemed enormous in comparison to him. It took a moment to calm down enough to concentrate on what he was saying. He hadn't waited for her to answer, he carried on with the club rules. Eventually he stopped, and she cleared her throat. 'Felicity, is my name, hi,' she smiled. 'Let's see what you've got, Felicity,' he said, ignoring the attempt at friendliness. Again it took her a moment to realise what was meant, but he looked patient. Still twirling the pen, he watched her strip. The shorts were pulled down revealing she wore nothing underneath. She caught his eyes, and realised he looked bored. He wasn't looking at her body being revealed, he was looking in her eyes to see if she was brave enough. He held her gaze, then she looked around for somewhere to put her clothes. She lay them neatly on a chair.