I'm not sure how I arrived at this point in my life.
The last couple of years have been difficult for me, as I have been uprooted to the city that I grew up in as a result of my husband's offer of a big promotion. Where we lived previously allowed a complete sense of freedom to be myself. I am a latent exhibitionist by nature. What I mean by that is that I don't go out of my way to show off or feel the need to have everyone looking at me. However I become quite aroused when I am encouraged to take erotic changes. I enjoy feeling sexy and doing sexy things.
I would much prefer to make love lying prone on a picnic table under the stars then hidden away in my bedroom. It is just how I am.
My husband seemed to know when we first met that I had this little itch that needed to be scratched now and then.
I am not a nudist, but the thought of being outdoors in a public setting where I might be seen wearing just a bra, panties, and heels sets me over the edge. I guess that makes me an R rated exhibitionist.
Anyway, our move back to my hometown along with my husband's promotion to a position where he would be meeting and interacting with new people all of the time pretty much ended my scratching of this itch. I am finding however that if the itch isn't scratched at least a little bit from time to time, my latent desire to show off will push itself to the forefront until I act on it.
This most likely explains why I have accepted my second task from Mr. David Barclay, (He told me that I could use his name) which is quite a bit more risqué than the first one.
I decided to go back into the work force and have been employed by a large insurance company as a supervisor in their customer service or call center area. My team answers calls regarding coverage questions, status of claims, takes complaints, etc.
I have been doing this for almost 5 months now and really enjoy my return to a career.
Despite my performance I am still considered the 'new girl' and have found myself to be the subject of many conversations: the kind of conversations that stop abruptly when you enter into the general area of the people having them.
I enjoy what I do and it keeps me from wanting to scratch my little itch or so I wanted to believe.
I also have found a fondness for writing erotic stories very possibly as a replacement to the activities that were left behind when we moved. Besides all of this I have two growing daughters and Mom's propensity to strip outdoors no longer seems appropriate. If it weren't for the itch, I could easily leave my past behind and move forward.
My other pen name on Literotica is HarleyFatboy1. I choose this name because our first motorcycle was a HD Fatboy, which provided quite a few arousing adventures for my husband and myself.
I decided to open this account on Literotica to post only stories of me and use my other account for my fantasy stories. So over time I will be deleting many of my first postings under my other pen name, as they were all about me, and reediting them to add to this account i.e. my life experiences account.
As I have already stated in my story, "The Task", I met David Barclay when he emailed me to compliment me on my stories. We subsequently exchanged emails about writing and story lines and found a mutual interest in the nature of submission and dominance.
He occasionally would hint about me performing tasks assigned by him.
Not to rehash what I have already written, but I pretty much ignored his hints as he was someone on the Internet (scary) and I was trying to leave that part of me behind. All of the reasons seemed so logical: a woman just turned 40, two children on the verge of teenhood, a husband respected in the business community, my own reputation, etc., etc.
On the other hand I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to and Mr. Barclay lives in Great Britain. What would be wrong with seeing what sort of tasks he might come up with?
We agreed on some parameters and as you have read on my other account, I performed my first task for him and, I guess, myself.
We also decided that the taskmaster will be Mr. Barclay and that my Internet friend will be David.
Mr. Barclay suggested another task but required some information about my style of dress including underthings, availability for tasks, type of work that I perform, etc.
I will admit that I blew up a bit at him as the first task had filled me with so much angst and anxiety that I was convinced that my little foray back into erotic risk taking was basically a one and done. Mr. Barclay did a very good job of calming my nerves and despite the constant feeling that I might throw up; I have to admit that I really enjoyed the first task.
The second task is much more daring; significantly more daring.
I have included our email exchanges to let you read about it firsthand.
The Emails
Elizabeth,
You are to creatively find a way to let the most members of your department at work know that you are wearing leopard print panties, coordinating suspenders, and stockings.
I want you to come up with 2 or 3 suggestions to achieve this task and submit them to me for my review. I will then assign the one that I prefer for execution. You should have your suggestions in my inbox, no later than Thursday.
I will be looking forward to your suggestions.
Mr Barclay
Mr. Barclay,
Thursday arrived much quicker than I anticipated or maybe quicker than I desired, as it represents a commitment on my part once I submit my suggestions.
It is somewhat ironic that I am writing this from my desk at work, as whatever is decided will be performed here. Gulp!
I have three suggestions that I will list in the order of least anxiety producing and least exciting to most anxiety producing and most exciting.
First, I could simply give accidental upskirts to my co-workers, which really isn't in my nature in a work environment. It wouldn't necessarily cause discussion through the department and wouldn't be that exciting to me. The trying on of shoes is much more my style of accidental upskirts, as you required of me in your first task.
I am rather meticulous about how I dress and despite the fact that I wear suspenders; my stockings come to the top of my thighs so the chances of seeing my stocking tops are pretty slim. I also regularly make visits to the bathroom to check the clasps and pull my stockings up in case they might be sagging.
I prefer suspenders over pantyhose, but not as any sort of come on to other men. They are so much more comfortable for me to wear and they represent a form of exhibitionistic behavior as well.
Second, which was my original plan, is to spill coffee or in my case, an iced mocha on myself towards the end of our monthly department meeting. I would excuse myself and rush to the bathroom to keep the stain from setting. Once there I would remove my skirt entirely and clean it and dry it standing in my blouse with my leopard print panties, suspenders and stockings available for anyone who enters the bathroom to see.
I know that a number of my co-supervisors would come in to check up on me, not necessarily that they would be concerned, but more to see my embarrassment.
When I was hired they bypassed a number of in house applicants that were close friends with my co supervisors. This has added to the tension of some of them wanting to see me fail.
Also, I am the only one that consistently dresses in business attire i.e. skirt and pants suits, and I know that some feel that I think that I am better than they are.
My display of leopard print would be talked about across the department within minutes of them seeing me in the bathroom.
Now why would I be willing to subject myself to this sort of talk? It would be such an unusual and potentially exciting experience to know that everyone is talking about my undies.
Everyday I would have to go to work realizing that my leopard print was a top subject of conversation as I try to notice any difference in how they look at me.
It would be absolutely delicious.
This brings me to the third suggestion. It is something that actually happened to a good friend of mine and until just three days ago I had completely forgotten about her experience.
She was in a department meeting a few years ago. From what she could determine, she had gone to the bathroom before the meeting and must not have paid particular attention to whether she had rebuttoned her skirt. The meeting room had wire-backed chairs, which our meeting room has as well.
When she stood up to leave the meeting, her zipper caught one of the twisted wires so perfectly that it pulled the zipper down and simultaneously yanked her skirt down as well.
She had the presence of mind to grab her skirt and immediately sit down so no one noticed, but what if I didn't have that same presence of mind?
I used to obsess over the thought of this constantly and wonder how it would feel to be the one losing their skirt. It creates so many mixed feelings ranging between absolute dread along with a latent desire to show off that I can't even imagine it.
I can't quite explain why, but I want to try it or at least dare myself to try it.
Yes, it would be extremely embarrassing and the thought of doing it on purpose sends my anxiety through the roof. Yet, I love this feeling, as I feel so alive.
Every first Wednesday of the month we have a department meeting to review our call statistics and talk through what we can do better. My four fellow supervisors, two managers, and department director attend the meeting. Four members are female and three are male.
My suggestion is to reenact my friend's experience but actually lose my skirt as I stand up from my chair. I have even experimented with different skirts to see which ones would completely slip off of me.
The talk of it and of me would echo through the building.
The meeting isn't until July 3rd, so I would have all of this time to think about it. It would drive me crazy.
