Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ï>¿On The Path by drbenway I learn about myself by accident. On The Path Ch. 01 Ritchie didn't seem to have the same fire for sex anymore after I had Jamie. Jamie was our second child. When he was born last year, he joined his older sister Katie. I thought I must have got fat and saggy being pregnant with Jamie. When I looked in the mirror, I knew it was true. I started exercising in the morning. If I got out on the bike path early, Ritchie was home with the kids before he went to work, and I had the path all to myself. I started roller-blading, and I loved it. In a couple months, my hips had slimmed down and my legs looked pretty good. I did some upper body work with a program on TV in the afternoons when I put the kids down for their naps. Even my tits were coming back, maybe not riding quite so high as they had when I was twenty, but swinging free, full and firm. By the middle of the summer, I could look in the mirror and like what I saw. We had a warm spell in early spring, and roller blading is a hot, sweaty workout. I started wearing nothing but skin-tight lycra shorts and a muscle T-shirt from Ritchie over my running bra. We live in one of the newer suburbs. There aren't a lot of houses along the bike path. I hardly ever saw anyone else using it at 6:30 in the morning when I was out there. But then they started working on a new division about a mile down the path from our house. There were crews of hot young studs working on that site every morning when I rolled by. I don't know if I started dressing for them, but I found myself hoping each morning that they'd see me. One morning, there were three of them mixing mortar under the trees, not more than twenty feet off the path. They looked up as I whizzed past. "Hey babe," one of them yelled when I was a few strides past them, "you got anything on under that T-shirt?" I don't know what possessed me. I looked back over my shoulder and grinned, then flipped up the bottom of my muscle-T in the back and showed them the brief nylon running shorts covering my buns. They loved it. I heard them whistling and clapping as I rolled on out of sight. My heart was racing and thumping in my ears, and I could feel my cheeks burning from the excitement of showing off like that. I was astonished at my boldness. I tried to laugh it off as some crazy impulse, but I was quite disappointed when they weren't near the path on my way back home. After Richie left for work that morning, I put my blading outfit back on and took a good look in the mirror. The guy was right. The muscle-T did hang down over my shorts. You couldn't tell if I was wearing anything under the T-shirt, or not. I slid the shorts down and kicked them off. No difference. I tried to simulate my skating stride. The shirt behaved and kept me covered. I stood there and looked into my own face. What the hell was I thinking! Well, whatever it was, the thought wouldn't go away. I was distracted all day, and I hardly slept that night. When the sky first began to get light, I slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom to get ready for my morning skate. I stripped out of my nightie and looked at myself naked in the mirror. Not bad. Then I put on my running bra and T-shirt and looked again. I was covered. That was all I needed. But I wasn't quite ready to go that far. I slipped back in the bedroom and found an outrageous pair of thong panties. Back in the bathroom, I put them on and took one last look in the mirror, turning to check it from all angles. It was fine, but I wouldn't be flipping up the shirt with that underneath. I was in a fog skating down the path that morning. I couldn't seem to think of anything. The only sensation I remember was the hem of that T-shirt gently touching my legs with each stride. When I got near the construction site, my heart was pounding - and not from exertion. The boys were there again, and, again, they stopped and watched me pass, contenting themselves with a couple appreciative whistles. Once again, they were not near the path on my way back. I wore the same thong for a couple days, with pretty much the same results. It was getting to be routine. One morning, they didn't seem to notice me when I rolled by. I coudn't quite admit it to myself, but I felt frustrated. The next morning, I did it. I threw the thong in the wash as I went out. I was bare-assed under my T-shirt. The breeze felt wonderful on my naked crotch as I zipped along the path. The old excitement was back. I rolled up to the construction site with the familiar thudding of my heart and burning cheeks that was my new sexual high. The boys were there, and they looked up, but they didn't seem any more excited than they had for the past few days. I was shocked and confused. Here I was practically naked, rolling right by, and they hardly noticed. But, of course, they couldn't see my nakedness. Why should they notice? What was there to see? I was thoroughly deflated. The next morning, I stood in the bathroom and slipped the T-shirt on with nothing underneath. Without the running bra, Richie's T-shirt was borderline obscene. My nipples were hidden by the widening of the straps that came over my shoulders, but it left plenty of white rounded boob showing at the sides and in the scoop neck. I couldn't wear that. Could I? I tried a few skating strides to see how it looked in motion. It still nominally covered, and I thought the swaying motion of my boobs was pretty sexy. I walked out into the hall, hardly knowing what I was doing. I put on my skates in a fevered trance, and didn't come out of it till I'd nearly reached the construction site. The knot of excitement that burned inside me was almost making me dizzy. As luck would have it, the boys looked up almost as soon as I was in sight. It took them no time to notice my outfit, this time. They stood and stared as I came up to them. My cheeks were on fire and my eyes misted over, but the high was worth every bit of my embarrassment. What I hadn't bargained on was a pebble on the path. If you hit it right, it doesn't take anything more than a pebble to stop your skate dead in the middle of a stride. I hit it just right, and felt my left skate jerked out from under me. I caught most of my weight on my right skate, but floundered wildly to regain my balance. In the process, my T-shirt flew up to my waist and my breasts nearly popped out the top. The boys were stunned for just a moment. Then they cheered wildly with catcalls and whistles. I'd unintentionally given them a great show. There was nothing I could do but sprint away, completely mortified. My mind raced, going nowhere. The feelings that welled up were so contradictory - shame and fear, and a sexual excitement that was almost intense enough to bring me to orgasm. I didn't calm down enough to have a coherent thought till I reached the far end of the path and turned around. Then it hit me. I'd have to pass them again on the way back. Even though they weren't usually near the path on the return leg, I knew they would be this time. They might even be right on the path. Maybe they'd try to grab me as I passed. What could I do? I was caught, and I couldn't come up with any way out as I rolled on. A couple hundred yards from the site, I peered through the trees and almost lost control of my bladder. Right at the point where I passed the three boys, there were about thirty men, the whole crew, standing around on the path. I leaned back on my brake and slid to a stop. Fortunately, none of them had yet seen me. I stood there a moment in panic. I couldn't go forward, but there was no other way home. I thought of taking off the blades and walking home barefoot through the woods, but it was more than three miles back. Even if I could find our house, picking my way through the woods barefoot would take more than an hour and Richie'd be wondering where I was. I couldn't walk in like this if he was waiting. I remembered a cul-de-sac back up the path. If I got out on the roads, I might be able to sprint home without too many people seeing me. I looked back through the trees at the crew clogging up the path. I couldn't go that way. I might get raped. I turned around and headed for the cul-de-sac. Getting out to the pavement wasn't bad. I picked my way across pine needles and crab grass without taking off my skates. It was safe on the cul-de-sac. It was part of a new development and none of the houses had been started yet. I didn't really know where I was, but I had an idea of the direction I wanted to go. So long as I just kept angling to the right, and didn't cross the path, I'd be heading home. I took a right out of the cul-de-sac on the main road of the development. There were a few houses already in along that road, but it was still early enough to be quiet. Anyone looking out their window that morning might have got an eyeful, but I couldn't worry about that. I took another right out of the development on one of the town's major roads. Now, there was some intermittent traffic. I started looking for a side street immediately. The second car that passed me honked - a teen-age boy. I didn't need any more attention like that. About a half-mile down that road - which I covered in about 2 minutes - I found a side street, an old county road. It was narrow and the pavement was rough, but there wouldn't be much traffic on it yet. I turned right on it, knowing I'd have to find a side street off to the left now. I was pretty sure the old county road crossed the path on one of the overpasses I went under every morning. It seemed like I was on that road forever. One old guy in a pickup passed me going the other way. I saw his eyes bulge as he saw what I was - or really wasn't - wearing. I felt the familiar flush of embarrassment tingle out from my fluttering insides and I picked up the pace. Just before the path, I finally found the left. It was a little-used side road that cut into the back of our development. I thought it would be perfect, because it would save me the danger of passing some of the other new homes in the development. I was lucky. I only saw one other car the rest of the way, and I don't think they noticed me. Now the only hazard was Richie. I didn't want to have to explain this to him. How could I? But, again, luck seemed to be with me. I rolled down the driveway and clumped into the breezeway. I jumped out of my skates and started up the stairs. Then I heard him coming out of the bathroom. I almost turned around, but I heard him call out, "Hi, honey. Better hustle it up. You're kind of late today." Then his head popped into view looking down the stairs at me. I had to brazen it out. Richie grinned when he caught on to my outfit. "Jeez. I hope you didn't wear that out for your morning skate. The neighbors will be selling tickets." "Oh right," I sarcastically agreed. "My shorts and bra were getting pretty rank, so I threw them in the wash before I came up." "Yeah. Good idea," he said absently as he ducked back into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He gave me a friendly pat on the rump as I passed, but the outfit didn't seem to get his juices flowing. After Richie left for work, I got the kids up and took care of their morning routine, then settled down with a cup of coffee to try to sort out my jumbled feelings, but there was no way to make any sense of it. Any way I turned, I still felt the contradictory thrill of breaking the sexual taboo, the fear of exposure and shame, and the vague sense that the whole thing was some kind of dangerous mental disease. But the strange thing was, whatever I felt about my escapade on the path, what I was feeling most was mad, mad at Richie. There I'd been, walking up the stairs almost naked, coming at him with a sexual fever boiling in my veins, and he'd just gone about his business getting ready for work. I had needs, and he wasn't fulfilling them; not with his once a week, ten minutes of grunting on top of me. That wasn't going to do it, not by a long shot. On The Path Ch. 02 The path leads on. After my close encounter on the bike path, I couldn't stop thinking about the incredible high I'd felt that morning. I found myself constantly fantasizing ways to recreate that feeling. Finally, I had to admit that all these exhibitionist scenarios I had imagined could never be confined to my dizzy head. The excitement was too intense, too addictive. I had to have it again. That's when I stopped fantasizing and started planning. When I zeroed in on one particular plan, it scared me to death, but I knew I'd have to do it. I couldn't resist. The only problem was when. I needed a way to disappear for two or three hours, to get away from my humdrum suburban life, away from Richie and the kids - just a tiny slice of time for myself, a time to transform myself and carry on my thrilling secret life. I couldn't quite figure out how I'd do it until Richie called one morning to tell me he had to take a client to dinner that night and he'd be home late. My heart started pounding in my chest and the nerves were jumping in my stomach. Instantly, I saw that this was the opportunity I'd been waiting for. About 3:30, I called Charlene, the high school kid who is our regular babysitter, and fate was with me. She could sit that evening. I told her to come over about 7:00. The kids were already in bed when I left, telling Charlene I'd be back around 10:00. I had my inadequate muscle T under a pretty little cocktail dress that would be consistent with the story I planned for Richie. In that short dress, the cool vinyl of the car seat on my bare legs constantly reminded me of my goal for the evening as I drove out to the airport. This was the fantasy I had fixed in my head. I planned to run around half naked through the massive airport parking garage, dodging random people walking to and from their cars. It seemed like the perfect plan, terrifying, but doable. I went up to the top level. It was deserted, but there weren't very many parked cars scattered around the wide open lot. It was too isolated, with no place to hide. I went down to a lower floor and parked in angled slots against a concrete wall. That floor was nearly full, but there didn't seem to be many people walking around. I pulled the dress over my head and quickly stripped out of my bra and panties without removing the T-shirt. stuffing them both in the glove compartment. I put the dress on the passenger seat and looked at my face in the rear view mirror. There was color in my cheeks and a shine to my eyes, but I looked just as scared as I felt. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. The lighting was dim, just enough to see my reflection in the car window, and I wasn't satisfied. I looked sexy, but the T-shirt nominally covered me. Unless they were fairly close, anyone who saw me wouldn't look twice, and even if they did, they probably wouldn't see anything they shouldn't. What I wanted was that tingling breathlessness, the fear and excitement that fluttered in my chest that morning when my little muscle T malfunctioned and left no doubt about what I was and wasn't wearing. For this outing, this adventure I'd planned for with so much excitement, half naked wasn't going to cut it. I hesitated for just a moment, looked carefully around the garage and saw no one. I opened the car door, took off the T-shirt and threw it in on the passenger seat. That left me nude except for my sandals, which I realized would be risky, slapping loudly on the pavement when I was trying to move silently through the echoing garage. I threw them on the floor in front of the passenger seat, shut the door quietly and bent down below the level of the car roof, still desperately scanning the aisles. Now, I had done it. I was completely nude in a public place where anyone could come along and see. I felt like I was flying and all I wanted was to keep that wonderful feeling singing through my body. Keeping low, I shuffled out to the back end of my car and again scanned the aisles. I could hear a car moving in the distance, but I couldn't see it, and I couldn't see any people. The coast was probably about as clear as it was going to get. I challenged myself to scamper across the open aisle and slink from one hiding place to another, making my way around the perimeter of the garage stark naked. I knew it was crazy, and I knew I'd have to move quickly or I would chicken out. I took another deep breath and raced across the aisle into the next line of parked cars where I felt reasonably hidden. I was panting, and it wasn't from that short sprint. From my new vantage point, I could see a much wider view of the garage and I looked around in dismay. The place was huge. It seemed like it was the size of a dozen football fields, much more than I had intended in my personal challenge. I started making excuses, but I didn't turn back. I was so jacked up I thought I'd just see how far my nerves would take me before my legs turned to jelly and I had to cut it short. In the mean time, I saw two wide glass doors leading to Terminal 1 just four rows down the main aisle. The doors were at the center of a small pool of light. I couldn't imagine being exposed in that spotlight, but something inside made me want to get as close as I dared. There were still no people around, no cars. I ran across another aisle and paused among the cars. Then another and another. I reached the edge of an open space that included the pool of light before the terminal doors. I peered through the doors into the lobby where I could see an elevator. But the elevator doors were closed and there was no one in the lobby. I teased myself into a dash to the far side of the open space. For a few seconds, I was perfectly visible to anyone who happened to come out of the terminal, but no one did. I reached the safety of a line of cars parked against the far wall of the garage, and I stopped for a moment between the first and second cars in line. I was slightly hysterical, giggling softly to myself when I heard a noise that stopped the giggles instantly. A car had turned into the aisle where I was hiding. I raised my head and saw it less than 50 yards away, coming slowly in my direction. I was pretty well hidden between a small Toyota sedan and a big SUV, but the headlights were like eyes peering into the darkness, looking for me. Then another noise made me jump. It sounded like two men coming out of the terminal doors. They were close enough for me to hear their conversation even though my heart was pounding so loud I'm surprised I could hear anything. I was too scared to lift up my head to peek at them through the windows of the Toyota, but the sound of their feet and their voices seemed to be coming closer. If they walked down my aisle, I'd be perfectly visible in my imperfect hiding place. I had to move. I crawled as quickly and silently as I could around to the front of the SUV and peeked past the fender. Two middle age men in suits walked across the narrow opening that I could see between the two cars. I silently let out the breath I'd been holding, but quickly realized my relief was premature. The two men stopped, apparently behind the SUV. "See you at work tomorrow," one of them said. "Yeah," said the other, "let's set up a time to go over those figures." "Sounds good." One set of footsteps moved away. The other set came right at me along the driver's side of the SUV. I scuttled, as quickly and quietly as I could, around to the passenger side of the SUV. The man got in and slammed the door. In two seconds he would be pulling out of the parking spot, leaving me caught in the glare of his headlights, crouched naked, directly in front of him. I was totally panicked. A dozen different escapes flashed through my brain, but they all seemed too risky. I froze. Then the engine started up and the headlights came on. The bright lights reflecting off the concrete wall of the garage raised my terror to a new level. Like a deer in the headlights, I instinctively did the wrong thing and started crawling away from the light. Before I got past the passenger door, I realized that a couple feet further would put me right in view of his side mirror. I quickly moved back to my original spot, crouched beside the SUV's right front tire, my useless brain still searching for a way out. When the SUV began to move, I had no choice. I desperately slithered around in front of the Toyota. I think I stayed low enough that I made it without the guy in the SUV spotting me, but that didn't put an end to my panic. In front of the sedan I was hidden from him as he pulled out, but I was exposed to anyone coming out of the terminal. I was keeping one eye on the doors and the other on the SUV as it pulled out. I hadn't even begun to consider my next move, when a new threat arose. The car I'd seen coming down the aisle just before the two men came out of the terminal was pulling into the space the SUV had vacated - more bright headlights, more terror. To make it worse, it wasn't a car; it was a small van. Unlike the SUV, with its windshield pushed back a few feet back from the front bumper, the van's front windows were right up front. When he pulled all the way into the slot, his passenger side window would look right down on my hiding spot. I had no choice, I scooted around to the other side of the Toyota. There I was hidden from the van but totally exposed to the terminal doors. The van pulled into the slot but did not shut off its lights, and no one got out. That vaguely worried me, but I was more focused on the terminal doors, and any concern I had with the van evaporated when I heard the faint sound of the elevator stopping, watched the doors rolling back and saw the faces of people waiting to get out. If I could see them, I was certain they could see me. I didn't wait to find out. I scooted back around in front of the Toyota, running bent over, as if that would hide me from the people on the elevator. All it really did was show them my bare butt in retreat if they happened to be looking. I ran right through the headlights of the van, holding my tits and trying to watch my footing. I was panicked beyond any rational thought. All I could think of was getting out of there, but I couldn't resist a side glance through the windshield at the occupants of the van. There were two of them, a man and a woman. The man was in the driver's seat, the woman in the passenger's. They were both about 50, wearing brown uniforms and eating a snack or a meal. The man had a small plastic cup in his hand and the woman was just taking a bite of sandwich. They must have been a cleaning crew on their break. I will never forget the look on their faces when they saw me run in front of them not more than six feet away. It seemed like the woman could have reached out the passenger window and touched my shoulder. They were startled at first, but in less than the second it took me to run through their lights, the look changed to one of shock and amazement. Without any other thought, I just kept on running, but I'm sure they could see me lurching down the line until I came to a corner of the concrete wall. I ducked around the corner, out of view from the terminal doors and the van for the moment, but far from safe. Before me was another wide expanse of the giant garage, a sea of cars. I stopped for a moment, breathing hard and trying to apply my scattered wits to somehow escaping all the horribly humiliating outcomes my imagination kept throwing up at me. Following the wall would offer the security of knowing no one was sneaking up from one side, but it would take me further and further from the safety of my car. On the other hand, I couldn't go back the way I came. Behind me I could still hear people walking, getting into cars, driving around. The only other choice was to cross a wide aisle that was well lit and possibly visible to the people coming out of the terminal or coming up the ramp. It felt terribly risky, but at least it took me in the right direction. I looked all around, saw nobody and ran as fast as I could across the aisle. I paused in a row of parked cars on the other side where I ducked down and listened. The garage was quiet except for a few cars moving about back near the terminal doors. When I raised my head and looked in that direction, all I saw were some dim lights. Then I remembered that the ramp was right behind me and lights of any car coming up would probably wash right over me. I quickly moved down the row of cars, alert to any sounds or lights that threatened, but as I went further, running faster and more upright, the sounds faded and the lights stayed dim in the distance. I realized I needed to cut over to my left to circle back to my car. I started crossing aisles, and with no one to slow me down, I made good time across the wide lot. But after crossing a number of rows, I started to question my sense of direction. In my blind excitement, I had forgotten to note the alpha-numeric designation of the section I had parked in. All I knew was that it was against a wall and close to the entrance to Terminal 1. It seemed like I should have come to the wall by then. When I came to a sign for Terminal 1and the arrow pointed back the way I had come, I knew I must have missed a turn somewhere. I turned and started running back, and soon saw the sign pointing to the right for Terminal 1. At the same time, I saw two cars coming toward me from that direction. I crouched down among the parked cars and waited for them to pass. They went down the aisles on either side of me. I was well hidden between two lines of cars, but it was enough to get my nerves back up to high alert. When I thought the cars were far enough away, I started running toward Terminal 1. Almost immediately, I was running along the wall, and I could see the pool of light and the doors, which was a relief. My car was only 30 yards away, but suddenly my nerves were shattered again. The double doors opened wide and a flood of people came out. Maybe it was only a dozen or so, but it seemed like way too many to keep track of. They were scattering in every direction, and several of them were coming my way. I ducked down behind the cars and tried to decide what to do. I was in a pretty good spot, with a solid wall on one side and a line of parked cars on the other. I thought I'd wait there until the foot traffic died down. Then I heard footsteps coming my way. They seemed to take forever to get to me, but they passed the car I was hiding behind and kept on going. I raised my head enough to see the backs of an old couple moving slowly down the line. I was ready to make my way to my car and get out of there, but when I looked in that direction, more people kept coming out of the terminal. It seemed like a jumbo jet must have unloaded right into this corner of the garage. I felt the surge of panic rising again in my chest, and I tried to fight it down so I could think. This time, I decided it wouldn't be any riskier to keep moving than it would be to stay still. I kept my head down and moved to the next car, trying to keep track of the people dangerously wandering around the aisles without showing myself. It felt like there were a dozen people just beyond that thin, porous line of sheltering cars. My heart was banging away and I was panting again, but I kept going. I saw a couple of people through the gaps between the cars, but none of them turned to see me, and I made it to the front of my car, where I crouched low and considered my options. Getting in was going to be another risky manuever. There were still a number of people walking by and a few cars driving around. Opening my car door could attract attention, and it would put me between my car and the car next to me -- very exposed. While I was planning how and when, I was terrified to hear the car next to me grumble to life. The headlights came on blindingly bright against the concrete wall. I was crouched in front of my car, low enough that the driver probably couldn't see me, but it raised a bigger problem. When the car pulled out, leaving an empty space next to the driver's side of my car, I couldn't get to the door without being totally exposed to the crowd out there. I was frozen with fear but fiercely determined to get into my car and drive away. Somehow, I had enough presence of mind to remember I could enter the car on the passenger side and slide over the console to the driver's seat. I peered around my right front fender to see if I could see anyone walking by. There was no one, so I duck-walked over to the door, ready to jump back and hide behind the cars if I heard anything coming close. As far as I could tell, I made it undetected to the door. I gently pulled the handle and breathed a sigh of relief when it opened. It's a fairly new car, and it has a complicated program for locking and unlocking the doors. Sometimes, it seems to lock up automatically when I leave it. Sometimes the clicker only opens the driver's door. This time, the passenger door was open, which was stupid, of course, but lucky. My dress and T-shirt were still on the seat, my purse and sandals on the floor. I mentally kicked myself when I thought of where I'd be if some enterprising young criminal had come along and stolen them. I picked up the dress and slid onto the seat, keeping low, and I cursed that damned car which was programmed to leave the interior lights on until I put the key in the ignition. I was frantic under that light, but digging the keys out of my purse would have to wait. I closed the car door without a slam, then tried to put on the dress while I was scrunched down in the seat. Why the hell did I wear such a stupid little dress? I got it over my head, but it got stuck on my shoulders with my head still inside and I fought it for what seemed like minutes before it finally slid down and my head popped out. What I saw when I could see again nearly made me pee all over the passenger seat of my car. While I was struggling with the dress, an SUV had pulled into the vacant space beside me and an old man was getting out of the passenger side just a few feet away. He was looking down into my car and grinning. I choked and frantically pulled the dress down over my exposed pubic patch. The old man winked at me and walked away. I drove out of the airport in a fog. The whole experience had left me numb. Somehow, I made it through the spaghetti maze of airport access roads out to the highway home. By the time I'd gone a few miles, I realized my hands were shaking uncontrollably, and I pulled off into the parking lot of a convenience store. I thought about going in and buying a small bottle of wine to settle my nerves, but that wasn't what I wanted. I just sat there in my car at the far end of the empty parking lot of some anonymous convenience store. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply and slow. In a minute or two, a new feeling began to grow inside me. I remembered with crystal clarity the shocked look on the faces of the cleaning crew in the van. I remembered the old man's wink. I remembered the terror that had choked me, the excitement of it all. I thought of all the risks I had taken, the fear I had conquered, and a small smile began to play at the corners of my lips. It grew into chuckles, then into wild laughter. When the laughter played itself out, I pulled down the dress and put on my bra and panties. I shoved the T-shirt deep into the bowels of my purse and drove home, already planning my next outing.