Emmas Story 2

Hi, I'm Emma and I want to tell you my story, about my journey from gentle teasing and exposure shared with my partner to full-on exhibitionism and showing off in front of hundreds of people both on-line and in-person.

The dares, and my awareness that I was a fully fledged exhibitionist, started with a holiday in Punta Cana. It was very simple at first. A request by my partner, Jake to let my swim top drop in Punta Cana. Jake had always encouraged me to wear small bikinis and loved me to pose for him while he took photographs. I was shy at first and thought I looked the wrong shape or the wrong age for such outfits, but gradually became more comfortable with being the object of his photography and even to enjoy it. I would get a small thrill as I saw how I looked in the tiny bikinis and how I realised I looked to my partner and to the passing men who took second and third glances. So when he asked me to let my breasts show, I obliged after only a moment's contemplation that brought an uncanny sense of excitement laced with a caress of eroticism. I saw the light in Jake's eyes as he made the request and saw me thinking about it, his lips tense as he wondered whether he'd gone too far, not realising that it was exactly what I'd wanted to do, to expose myself on this mostly conservative beach but where there were a few girls - mostly younger it must be said who had gone topless. It was only later that I realised the appeal of a more mature woman - a MILF as I suppose I would be termed - to both younger and older men.

I took my swimsuit off my shoulders and gradually brought my pale breasts into view. It felt good already, to release them from the restraints of the tight straps - done up so tightly to prevent my large boobs from falling out that I'd felt imprisoned. I felt cooler instantly, with what breeze there was able to reach all of my skin. I looked around - no-one seemed to have taken notice of the remarkable step I'd taken, no-one was visibly shocked; I almost felt disappointed! I felt a little nervousness and a lot of excitement. Whatever thrill I'd felt when I posed for pictures was magnified a hundred times now I was naked. I felt it in my breasts and in my core. Yes, in my pussy as well. I wanted to go further but needed the push of my partner to goad me into showing more. When we got back to our hotel room, I practically jumped on Jake, stripping off all my clothes and wanting to be taken by him.

We expanded our horizons a lot on that trip. After that first afternoon, my partner asked me to surprise him by having some photos taken by a stranger. I complied with this request by having a resort worker take several photos, though on my camera. He and his friend were quite pleased with what they saw and I made sure to show a little more of my body than would normally appear on my holiday pictures. I posed in my swimsuit and even took my bra off for a few snaps. Each day from there on, I had my picture taken by a different stranger, with a different stranger. Sometimes just standing next to him, sometimes flashing a little more leg, up to my panties, once, pulling my top down to show my boob and nipple.

I'm building up to the point where I tell you what happened later in the week, but I have to tell you not just what I did but how I felt. Each time I extended the amount I showed, the way I flirted with these strangers, the time when a passing couple saw what I was doing. Each time, I felt a rush, first of adrenalin - a nervous shock of fear and fright. Yes that's right, fright - not to make me run but to keep me pinned to the spot. The second reaction was that I felt so erotically aroused. My neck and chest flushed, my breasts felt swollen, my nipples grew and stiffened - and oh my pussy! I felt a flow of liquid as the signals went from brain to breast to belly and into my cunt. I wanted to touch myself to check that it was real but I knew it was. I could feel the stickiness between my thighs and feel my panties getting damp. Each time, when I went back to Jake, told him what I'd done and showed him, we made love. It got so that I was charged even before I did the dare and wanted to push myself further each time. Wanted to feel the liquid running down my thighs so my husband saw the effect before he touched me.

Our accommodation in the resort was part of a duplex with large floor to ceiling sliding windows in the bedroom and living area. The balcony was shared with our neighbours for the first few nights - a younger couple from South Carolina, and some small sea animals (crabs) blown in by the breaking waves. After each time I was dared and I shared the photos and the stories with Jake, we made love. More than love, it was raw passion from both of us. We fucked like teenagers and then caressed each other, sometimes starting again and cumming... He was so aroused; he flipped me on my knees and took me like an animal. The blinds were drawn in; watching the glorious ocean under the brilliant sun and hearing the noise of our neighbours tottering around in their quarters felt so amazing. If only we had dared to take our lovemaking onto the balcony...dared to let them see us...

After the first couple of days, seeing pictures of me doing something risky, having me tell him what I'd done that day and hearing about the reactions of passers by, just wasn't enough for Jake. He had to be there, had to see me as I flashed someone or walked down the street in a dress with no underwear on. It was easy if we were at the beach and he'd take photos of me in the surf, posing with my ass stuck out and showing it to some poor unsuspecting guy. He took several pictures of me in a Wicked Weasel Tuxedo bikini which was cut so skimpy that it was practically just two triangles joined by a thin string. The whole of my cheeks were on show and if I spread my legs a bit, it didn't take much for my ass and pussy to be fully visible. When I got out of the water and lay down in the sun to dry off, I could hear chatter from nearby sun-loungers.

I heard them talk about me, "Did you see that MILF over there with the tiny bikini? Her boobs looked great, jiggling as the waves rippled through her?

"Yes - and I saw her on the boardwalk yesterday in a tiny dress. Great legs too. I'd love to see her bum though. The bikini bottom is tiny and you could see most of it but there's nothing like seeing a girl's arse bare."

Their comments excited me so much that later on in the week, I asked Jake to dare me to take my thong bikini off and pose on all fours to show my naked bottom to the voyeurs on the beach. My skin was so tanned from all the sun that I thought it would show up really well.

Now I can tell you what all of this led to. Towards the end of our holiday, I was dared to wear a purple slinky dress which showed pretty much all of my boobs. We were in our room when Jake pulled it out from his suitcase. "Emma," he said. "You'll wear this tonight." There was no discussion, no "Will you?" It was an instruction and I knew that he'd read me perfectly. It was the sort of dress in which it was impossible to wear a bra or bikini top. Well, I suppose it was possible and in my younger, more prudish days I might have done. But my husband had bought this specially from Wicked Weasel and there were no shots where the model was wearing a bra so that was how I was told to wear it. He had to persuade me. I wanted to wear it with a bandeau top at first, but when I looked in the mirror, it didn't look right. It looked cluttered with the extra layer of clothing and somehow far more sophisticated with my breasts free to move.

We had dinner first. I felt nervous enough walking to the restaurant along a very public promenade. It was a warm evening, so I wasn't cold, but as I walked, the dress flowed around me and my boobs swayed underneath it, threatening to be exposed with every step. The dress fabric was soft, but every step made the cloth rub against my nipples. Combined with the excitement I felt, they stood out proud and engorged, aching to be touched. I was aware that with the cut of the dress, my entire back was exposed, almost to the crack of the top of my ass, that the front was low cut to show my cleavage, but even more that the side vents were so large that my torso was visible from my armpits to my waist. My breasts were showing from the side in what I now know is called "side-boob", but then I just knew that it excited me to feel that I was on display so much, wearing so little in a very sophisticated resort.

When we got to the restaurant, I imagined everyone was looking at me. Maybe some of them were. It was enough that one or two turned around to look and the waiters certainly gave us good attention. I saw one couple where the wife turned to her husband and whispered in his ear, glancing in my direction so I knew they were talking about me. I'm sure she was scandalised but the husband looked quite pleased to look at me and I caught him staring a couple of times which thrilled me. When I rose from the table to go to the washroom and walked across the crowded room, I felt eyes on me, staring at my back and my legs. When I walked back to the table, I saw heads look up and knew that my nipples were showing prominently and that my breasts were swaying under the dress.

After the restaurant, I thought my trial was over and that we would go back to the room and fuck on the balcony, not caring if our neighbours saw us, but my husband had different - and better - ideas. There was a small club on the way from the restaurant to the hotel and my husband took me inside. We sat at the bar and had a few drinks. The bar stools were high and I felt very much on show. Fortunately, at this early stage of my exhibitionist training, Jake hadn't requested that I remove my knickers as well. Later on, he would insist...

That evening, there was a disco and the DJ played songs that made me want to dance. I told Jake, expecting that because the dress was so loose, he would let me stay seated. He reacted strangely. He told me that the "accessibility" of the dress invited hands to reach out from behind me, underneath the dress and through the deep slits in the side to cup my boobs and take some liberties. The instant he said that, I imagined that I could feel the hands on my breasts and I felt so turned on. He saw in my eyes that I was flushed and told me to go ahead and get on the dance floor. I danced alone at first, then with other customers of the bar, some of whom I recognised from the beach or the hotel. Men and women, it was the same to me, I enjoyed being free and the more my boobs fell out of the dress, the more excited I got and the more I wanted.

As Jake had suggested, as I danced, I felt hands creep around from behind. It wasn't scary though, in fact I invited them. To begin with the hands stayed above my dress, around my waist. Then, I felt a different guy arrive behind me. Stronger, more confident. His hands went straight through the sides of the dress, cupping my boobs, holding them tight and searching for my nipples. I looked over to my partner and saw him watching me closely, smiling at what he saw. I wanted to show off for him as well as to encourage the guy behind me. I pushed my butt backwards and put my own hands over my dress, over his hands, squashing him into my boobs. He took the hint and squeezed, moulded and finally pinched my nipples. I so nearly came at the intimate touch, the first new man since Jake had met me.

I reached behind me to feel for his hips and maintain the connection between us. As he pushed forward I felt his erection press into me and I ground back against him until the end of that song. Turning, I saw that I'd been fondled and man-handled by the DJ! I wanted more. As the DJ went back to his mixing desk, I found another person come onto the floor to dance with me -- a woman this time. She bent her head to me and whispered -- well, spoke quite loudly against the sound system -- how much she enjoyed my display, how much she liked the dress, how much she wanted the same, how much she wanted to do the same to me. So she did. I hardly wanted the evening to end. A woman's soft hands on my breasts and nipples was just as exciting as the rougher pawing I'd had from the DJ. Next time I looked for Jake, he was talking to the DJ.

When the club was closing, I was just about worn out from all the dancing, but I couldn't wait for us to get back to the room and relieve the excitement I felt. Then I realised that the DJ was coming back with us. I was held firm by two guys as we walked back. I was super-charged nervous now! As we walked, Jake and the DJ's hands were inside my dress, through the armholes at the side. Their hands were on my bare waist, on my boobs, pulling the dress to the side to let my breasts show, whether there was anyone there to see them or not -- it felt like the scenes I've seen of Mardi Gras where girls flash their tits for necklaces (and yes, I want to go there!). My nervousness showed as giddiness. I was giggling and putting my hand on their crotches to confirm that they were both as excited as I was -- and they were. I had no idea what would happen when we got back to the hotel and our room. Jake opened the balcony windows and poured us all a drink, then he sat in the armchair and watched as the DJ and I made out.

I wanted to be taken and didn't know if the DJ was just the warm-up or the main course. We kissed, and I kept checking with Jake as he sat there with a beatific look on his face, sipping his rum. It didn't feel like he was a cuckold; it truly felt as though watching was his kink and being a voyeur gave me the full permission to be the exhibitionist for him. The DJ had his hands on my boobs, then he slipped the dress off my shoulders and began kissing them, sucking my breasts into his mouth. My cunt was flowing. I needed to be fucked. The DJ's hand was up my dress, feeling me through my panties.

"Take them off," I said. But he didn't. He pressed his hand into me and stirred my lips around until my panties were soaked. Then he pulled them to one side and fingered me again, just dipping his knuckles inside me, hardly penetrating me at all but working me up fantastically. Eventually, I had had enough and got out of his embrace and onto the bed on all fours, my bum facing him and Jake. I looked over my shoulder and Jake raised his glass to me. The DJ hesitated for a few seconds, then pulled an ankle bracelet out of his pocket and fastened it around my leg. It felt like he was claiming me. Then he reached up under the dress -- which I was now wearing more as a belt -- and pulled my soaked knickers down before claiming me properly.

It was raw, animal, powerful and so good. Not because he had a big cock or because he used it well, just because I was releasing every bit of tension that had built up over the day, doing it to satisfy my man's kink as well as my own. He thrust into me, again and again, just like his movements on the dance floor from behind me, his hands roaming from breasts to hips to breasts again. He slid easily into me, as wet as I was, and I found myself cumming more quickly, more easily and more continually than I ever had before. No words were spoken but we made a lot of noise! After he finished, partly inside me, he pulled out and came over my bum leaving me marked, but not soiled. When he'd shared a rum with Jake and me, he left and Jake set about re-claiming me, loving me, comforting me and satisfying me. He showed me that it was possible to share and for both of us to have fun with other people and with no jealousy or anxiety.

Jake and I had so much intense sex that week. One night, I danced around a bonfire on the beach after I had some champagne... I should tell you that dancing on the sand is not easy. One could easily fumble and with that precariously worn dress, it would be all too easy to rely on a stranger for support...

Later, after the vacation and coming back home, my partner would whisper into my ear the things that could have happened if I were more permissive with my limits and the things he would dare me to do next time we were on vacation. His courage and imagination in thinking about and telling me such fantasies aroused me immensely, which surprised him somewhat and fed into his arousal. He would tell me in detail what I would wear, how I would show myself, how I would remove the clothes and display my body in public situations, what I would do to strangers we met and how he would watch as I flirted and went even further with people we both trusted. This would get me wet and ready to have sex and I made sure that he satisfied me as much as I tried to fulfil his desires.

We relived our vacation over the next months, remembering what I had done and thinking of taking it to another level. I began to think eagerly of our next holiday and looked more intensely at the Wicked Weasel and Microminimus bikinis, dresses and lingerie that I would buy or be given and told to wear -- the more daring the better!

I must just tell you of another adventure. This was in Paris, about 5 years after our Punta Cana vacation and just over 10 years ago. We were put up in a lovely boutique hotel off the Champs-Élysées not far from the Arc de Triomphe. The breakfast there was phenomenally good, living quarters carefully appointed and service delightful. They had a sauna/steam room and we had reserved it for half an hour one early evening. We got in, I lost the towel and was stark naked, doing some stretching. Jake was instantly excited but was a bit apprehensive about someone walking in on us as we had spotted a couple of people in the small workout area.

Anyhow, I was excited seeing his excitement, so I sat down on the towel next to him and grabbed his stiff dick. Soon, he was in my mouth and later I sat on his lap riding him in reverse cowboy with his hands over my hips and boobs. He then got me throbbing by saying how I would look if someone came in and saw what we were doing and challenged me not to cover up even if anyone came in. He asked me whether I would let the stranger fondle me and whether I would please him orally. Jake came soon afterwards as I was close to climaxing. Later in the room, he went down on me as I reached my climax thinking what all could have been -- and wishing that it had.