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.