Even More Harmless Exhibitionism

This story is Part III in a series. Parts I and II are linked below:

A Little Harmless Exhibitionism

Sheltered wife regrets marrying her first boyfriend

.

and

A Little More Harmless Exhibitionism

Sheltered wife regrets marrying her first boyfriend

.

If you haven't read Part I and Part II yet then please start at the links above before reading this one.

All stories in the series take place in the same 24h period:

I hope you enjoy. Please leave a comment. Let me know what you like and don't like.

After we left the pizzeria we walked through the city. I didn't think to question where we were going. I liked that it was just the two of us now. After a few minutes he said, "it is quite a long way to my place and all the taxis seem to be busy, we might have to get a night bus."

A London bus is kind of a famous tourist thing to do so I was not against the idea. We stopped at a bus stop. As he started to read the timetable a red bus pulled up, easy!

We jumped on, the ticked machine beeped for him. Upstairs, we had the top deck to ourselves. He sat us at the front.

The bus moved off. After a while he said, "you didn't cum?"

"Not yet," I replied, "I still have high hopes tho," I added cheekily.

"You are still turned on?" he asked me.

"Oh, Ya," no point hiding it!

"You can suck me. If you like," he offered.

"Here? On a bus?" even after the madness of the club and the pizzeria I was still hesitant.

"If you like..." he was trying a reasonable tone. Like, none of this stuff if that crazy, its all

reasonable

, we are

reasonable

people.

His cum was leaking out of me, mixing with my wetness, I liked that, it made me wetter. At home, I sometimes waited for my husband to fall asleep after sex and masturbated as his cum leaked out. Now as we had walked Jeremy's cum had gradually smeared all over my thighs and had worked its way up between my ass cheeks. I had been thinking about it as we walked, letting it turn me on, looking forward to getting back to this place. In truth it was not a case of being 'still turned on' I was even more turned on than before. Looking forward to getting to his place.

"Take it out," I told him.

I tasted myself on him, I had rarely done that before, usually I objected, but now I liked it, I was worked up enough to like it. I felt him swell inside my mouth, that gave me an extra kick.

24h ago I was a prude. Well, a prude with a porn habit. A porn addicted prude, if that is even possible. The wall was kind of broken now, the prude self and the porn self were meeting, mixing. I know which one was stronger, so far at least. But, it is the weekend, and you know - area codes - and all. So maybe I'll let the porn self run amok for a day or two and then on Monday the prude self can take control again.

I realized that, in the manner of addicts of all types, I'm telling myself 'I can stop any time I want... I don't have a problem... I can stop any time I want... I CAN STOP ANY TIME I WANT'.

Voices downstairs. People were coming up the stairs. I sat up. I keep my hand on his junk. He covered my hand with the tails of this shirt. I wiped my face, ineffectively. There was drool and remnants of 5 or 6 guys spunk still on there. No one was looking anyway. I squeezed and stroked without making it too obvious.

They only stayed on for a few stops. I got straight back to work as soon as they were gone.

The bus stopped a few minutes later. No one got on or off. I kept sucking. Then I heard a voice, "That's it love. Suck it good."

I spun around. The driver was there, watching us. He had sneaked up the stairs quietly.

"I've been watching you for the last several miles" he said. He pointed to a CCTV cam in the roof of the bus. I hadn't seen that. Shit.

He sat down across the isle from us. "Continue.... Do as I say and no one will ever know. No one will see the CCTV recording. I can wipe it before I get back to the depot if you do what I say."

"I'll do anything you say," I said, "please don't show the CCTV to anyone. What do I have to do? Do you want to see my tits? Do you want me to suck you?"

He started to say something. He hadn't got the mockery in my tone. It didn't cut through my accented English. "You stupid fat fuck," I angrily cut him off before he could say anything, "I'm not doing anything of the sort."

I Don't know where that came from, I usually don't speak to people like that. Then again I don't usually suck guys off on buses. Or have public sex in a pizzeria. Or, for that matter, expose myself in night clubs or on beaches.

"Listen carefully asshole. Do as I say and you can keep your job. Fuck around and we'll get you fired and get you put on the sex offenders register." He was taken aback. He didn't expect me to stand up for myself.

"What the fuck were you thinking asshole?" I challenged him, I wasn't completely sure where I was going with this but I was 100% sure I was not going to do as he said just cos he saw me sucking cock. "How the fuck did you think you could get away with coming up here and giving us an ultimatum. Did you think you had leverage?"

He was on the back foot now. He thought we would be a push over. What was he hoping for? The fat fuck was going to get more than he bargained for.

"Is the CCTV still recording now?" I asked him. He looked like he already knew he had no chance of getting what he wanted. "If its recording, we can just call the police before you delete it. I might be embarrassed, but you'll be fired, you'll be an unemployed sex offender after this little stunt. On the other hand, if the CCTV is already off then my friend here is free to beat the living daylights out of you with no fear of consequence."

Jeremy didn't say anything, he just angled his head and drew a breath as he widened his eyes at the driver. Like 'don't argue a lost cause, mate. She has your number. I've got your number an' all'

The driver made some mumbling noises but no words came out.

"Come on," I said as I stood up and made for the stairs. Jeremy close behind and the fat fuck trailing after us. "Wipe the CCTV now," I said when he eventually made it down the stairs, wheezing. He fiddled with some buttons on a control panel.

"Stop fucking around," Jeremy interjected. He barged the driver aside and took control of the CCTV console. "What's the security code?" he demanded. "Select all. Delete. Delete. Permanently delete? Yes. Am I sure? Yes." after entering the code he spoke the menu options aloud as he clicked through the console interface.

"Fuck you loser" Jeremy took the parting shot as we jumped off the bus.

The doors closed automatically, we heard the engine over-rev as the fat fuck scuttled away with his tail between his legs.

We high fived and hugged each other in the deserted street. That was some unforeseen weirdness. On the other hand, we were taking risks, drawing attention to ourselves, some weirdness was always a possibility. There is no accounting for assholes. It could have been worse.

I looked around, we were on a straight road with small houses and even smaller gardens. Cars parked nose to tail on both sides of the street. Nothing moving, no sign of life. Orange street lights gave the abandoned street the feel of alien landscape.

"Did you get all the CCTV?" I asked.

"Ya, I think so. I deleted every file on there, and then deleted them from the 'recycle bin' too," Jeremy reassured me.

"I guess we are walking home now," Jeremy sighed.

"Fuck that," I replied, "I want to finish what we started."

I slid the top of my dress down one more time as I walked across the empty street towards a vacant lot. He stood still, compelled to admire the view, not yet realizing that his participation was required.

"HEY! SNAP OUT OF IT! Do you want to let me suck you off or not?"

He crossed the road in two or three strides. I squatted down in front of him.

The orange sodium light fell at an angle on our half clothed bodies, the builders rubble and detritus of the waste ground around us was half lit in orange, half obscured in black shadows. Not the most natural setting for sex, no way romantic, but the lighting transformed it, forbidden, dirty, erotic, foreign.

I got to it. I was super hot. I had given up wondering what my 9am self would think about things. Different self. He held my head in his hands, his cock in my throat. I rubbed myself and squeezed my tits as I sucked him. I felt like an animal, I was free.

I stood up and turned my back to him. I had never been as ready. I slid the remnants of the dress down my legs and kicked it aside. I put my hands on a dumpster to steady myself. He slid into me easily. I relished that initial 'just right' feeling before he started thrusting.

I don't know where the talk came from, I never before verbalised much during sex. At first it was just in my head, an inner monologue, but I couldn't contain it. It was as if I was overflowing with filth, it just had to go somewhere, I let it out, an endless stream of the dirtiest dirty talk flowed from my mouth as he fucked me.

"You fucking asshole..." I heard myself start in a gravely whisper.

After a few strokes it continued, "... Who do you think you are?"

Every few strokes more low filthy whispers followed, "You fucking asshole..."

"You think I like this?"

"You fucking bastard... fucking me on the side of the street..."

"Do you think it is OK to treat me like this?"

"What an asshole you are..."

"You think you can treat me like a whore?"

"I am a married woman..."

"Who do you think you are?"

"You think I like sucking cock on a public bus?"

"You think you can let random guys cum on me? Disrespect me?"

"You think buying a cheap dress means you own me?"

"You think putting me in a slutty dress makes me a slut for you?"

"What makes you think it is OK to treat me like a whore?"

"You don't own me. Just cos I show you my tits and ass doesn't mean nothing."

"Just cos I let you buy me a slutty dress doesn't mean nothing."

"Just cos I wear your slutty dress doesn't mean I'm your slut!"

"You think buying me a cheap dress means you own me?"

"I am not your property... you fucking asshole..."

The spell was cast, he was fucking like an animal. He had given up struggling to control himself. I paused my commentary, I had something to take care of.

"Don't cum yet. Hold out, make it last a bit longer..." I instructed him.

He obliged. Regained control slightly. Slowed his pace. Held out a bit longer. What a gent'.

I reached between my legs, "I am not your property..."

I felt his hand slide up my back, he pulled my hair, drew my head back, I felt slight pain in my scalp, tension in my neck muscles. "Ya".

After I climaxed I paused a few seconds to catch my breath, then the flood of abuse restarted...

"You are an asshole..."

"A complete fucking asshole..."

"Who do you think you are? Mistreating me like this?"

A few seconds after cumming I had a feeling. I just knew I was going to cum again. It never happened to me like that before. I felt like all I had to do was wait and let it happen.

"I'm a married woman. You think it is OK to fuck me on the side of the street... against the bins... like a junkie whore?"

"Do you?"

"You think you can just order me up like a take out..."

"You fucking asshole..."

"You send a Linkedin message and I just show up on a plane so you can publicly exhibit me... fuck me in front of strangers..."

"You booty call me on Linkedin and then you disrespect me like this..."

"No hotel room, no flowers, no chocolates, just a cheap slutty dress and public sex in a pizzeria... public sex in a filthy vacant lot?"

He slackened off on my hair, bad timing. "No, I liked it," I corrected him, "just keep doing exactly what you were doing," he did as I asked, the sensations returned to my scalp and my neck muscles. "Ya," one syllable to reassure him.

He never broke his stride. He kept fucking.

I felt tension building in my legs and my abdomen, I gripped the rim of the dumpster, pressed my elbows into my rib cage in anticipation, pushed my butt back onto him as he fucked me. For once I didn't feel any uncertainty, no 'will I? won't I?', no 'can I get there', I just waited for it, the tension built and built, the release came with a bang. "Ahhhhhhhh..... Fuck ya..."

"Thank you..." in the next breath I followed up. I meant it.

He didn't break his stride, still fucking me. The filthy talk flowed again...

"You treated me like property tonight... you bastard..."

"You showed me off around town like a trinket... exhibited me... treated me like your personal plaything..."

"Why should I accept... such mistreatment from you?"

"You think I like the waiters... perving on me... in such a slutty dress?"

"Ya. I do," he just about managed to reply. (He was right about the waiters tho, I will never forget how I allowed them to perv on me.)

He wasn't holding back now, he was trying hard to finish.

"You think I like people watching me fuck... in a shitty pizzeria?" I asked, "People were clapping and cheering my infidelity... a nice guy would not do that... that makes you an asshole?"

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Dressing me like this... exhibiting me... forcing me to show my tits... Offering me up to strangers... I am a respectable Christian..."

"Did you like watching those guys cum on my tits? on my face? in my eyes?"

"Did you even care how I felt... disrespecting my eyeballs?"

"Don't even know their names..."

"Thanks to you... getting fucked against a dumpster... still have five guy's cum on my face..."

"Ahhhhhhhhhh..." he screamed at the top of his voice. That's it, I thought. Don't hold back. I smiled to myself. I loved the power I had over him, the affect I was having on him. His cry echoed around the buildings. I raised my eyes, to see if any lights would turn on in the houses around. Nothing. No one cares...

"I still have cum in my eyes..." I spurred him on by spelling out the disrespect he had shown me.

"Two or three guys cum... in my eyes..."

"Before I met you... never had cum in my eyes..."

"Before I met you... one person ever saw my tits..."

"Before I met you... never had cum on my face..."

"Thanks to you a thousand people saw my tits and ass..."

"It was 400. 500 max," breathlessly he corrected me.

In the heat of the moment I let it slide that this was the only part of my filthy monologue that he felt the need to set me straight on. Was he tacitly agreeing with all the rest? LOL.

"You are disgusting..." I continued.

"I bet you wanted to see me fuck that fat bus driver..."

"I can't believe... I let you parade me around town.... So many people..."

"So many people..."

"I let you send me to the front of that stage... debasing me... again and again... a good man wouldn't have done that..."

"Can't believe I let you walk me... around the club like that... like I was your slutty 'art project' or something... are you proud of yourself?"

"Ya. I am." he just about managed to turn a grunt into a 'ya'. I knew he was crazy proud of himself. I was crazy proud of myself. What a blast!

"Can't believe I let you talk me into being a cheater..."

"Before I met you I only ever fucked one guy..."

"You are nothing to me... You are just a bit on the side..."

He couldn't take it any more, I felt him quicken his pace, I heard him getting louder. As he came in me he grunted and bucked hard. We fell forward. I felt the cold metal of the dumpster pressed against my naked body.

He said nothing as we straightened ourselves out. He was waiting for me to say something. I guessed he was waiting for me to signal that he wasn't actually an asshole, that I liked it all, that he wasn't actually an abuser. He already knew, of course. I said nothing more to reassure him.

The dress was a write off, dirty, cum stained, trampled on. I had no intention of wearing it, or washing it. Already, it had blended into the litter and discarded trash on the dirty waste ground beneath us.

"Let me have your shirt," I said.

He looked confused for a split second then he shrugged as he happily reconciled himself to walking home shirtless.

I did a cute little spin, invited him to admire his shirt on me.

I smiled at him and sweet as pie I asked "What are we going to do tomorrow?"