My wife likes to expose me.
There we are, I've finally admitted it, and you are the first person I've told.
When I say she likes to expose me, I mean she seems to be very good at engineering situations where I am naked, or end up naked in front of, well just about anyone. So far most of her workmates, friends, many strangers, and even some of her family have been on receiving end of this - well I suppose I can only use the word fetish.
In all honesty, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this except that I do allow it to happen so I guess I must in some way approve or enjoy it despite the emotions I experience at the time.
We are an ordinary, young, recently married couple, Anne and Richard. I would have to say that this is probably not normal behaviour for people like us. It's certainly not something we have ever discussed or had any intention of starting until what happened on our respective stag and hen parties before the wedding.
We are recent graduates, working in the same engineering company based in a small town in the Home Counties. It the kind of place that was a village only a few years ago, but that now has become more of a small town with all the development that has taken place. I am an engineering graduate and joined the company's management training programme from university. That involves working in the various engineering sections including initially working on the shop floor learning the processes and the machinery.
Meanwhile, my wife is an accountancy graduate and works in the office alongside the administration group, again, having joined straight from University.
Our friends and workmates would say that we were quiet, shy and reserved people and it appears neither had much success with the opposite sex during our university years. When we met at the graduate intake session run by the company we did seem to notice each other and I guess you could say we were a good match. In fact I'm surprised that we actually managed to have that first date given how reticent we both are and I certainly can't remember how we got together. We just seemed to drift into it in an almost pre-ordained way, and the new friends we made all seem to agree we make a good couple.
Having painted this picture of the slightly introverted, shy, and quiet couple you must be wondering how did we ever end up in the situation I've told you about in that statement at the beginning of this confession? That is what I am about to explain.
As the wedding date neared all the guys on the shop floor nagged me constantly for the details of the stag party. As you might imagine as a quiet graduate amongst a group of hard working, hard drinking men I was the butt of many jokes, mostly in good humour and certainly not malicious. meanwhile, my bride to be, was under the same pressure from her work colleagues in the offices, and certainly from the more mature ladies who always wanted an excuse for a good night out.
Neither of us was particularly keen on the idea of stag or hen parties but inevitably caved in to demand for this long practiced tradition. By way of explanation, our town, as I've said was originally a village now expanded into a town and what was the village street has been extended into a straight long road with a plethora of pubs, cafes, restaurants and shops along its length. It was agreed that we would start at opposite ends of town and would not encroach more than half way along the high street, thus keeping out of each other's territory.
Friday evening on the designated day we set off from home making way to either end of town. Now to tell you something of our respective party goers.
I hadn't made many friends since moving here and the few I had had been supplemented by the guys off the shop floor - mostly self invited as they would use any excuse for a good drinking session and (my big worry) a bit of a punch-up.
My girlfriend on the other hand had a few friends, a number of the well dressed ladies from the office, married but always eager for a girls night out and a couple of the younger secretaries.
As soon as I arrived the guys were in full swing, drinking, cheering me on, singing, whistling at every girl that went past. You know how these things go. I'm not much of a drinker so I managed to surreptitiously slip some of my drinks under the table, into adjacent plant pots, or left behind as we moved from pub to pub progressing along the high street. How boring do I sound?
As we moved along the high street getting closer and closer to "no man's land" my entourage were in fine fettle and I was pleased the night was coming to a close. I did notice some covert whispering when suddenly, I was grabbed by a few of the lads and dragged into the gents, where to my horror I was stripped naked amid much cheering, hooting, applause and banter. My shoes were put back on my feet and I was carried bodily on shoulders through the pub and out into the street. I can't really describe how I felt as it had happened so quickly and I was still trying to make sense of being out in the street (luckily on a warm summer's evening) with no clothes and exposed to anyone who cared to look. This had definitely been planned, and may well have been a well practiced ritual at previous stag parties.
One of my retinue came running down the street to inform the others that "they", meaning the hen party, are in the Lion's Head. At that news the group marching up the to the pub, stood me down on the pavement, grabbed my arms behind my back around a suitable lamp post and tied my hands together with what I guessed were cable ties. The ringleader who was actually the workshop foreman then hung a sign around my neck, told me that they would leave my pile of clothes on my front door step for when I got home and, horror, that the girls would soon be coming out of the pub. My fellow revellers then dissolved into the night, no doubt to carry on the celebrations elsewhere and without me. By squinting down at the sign I could make out the words - "Getting married, help me enjoy my last night of freedom. Give me a kiss"
Imagine how you would feel. In the space of what seemed only a few seconds I had ended up naked, tied to a lamp post in the middle of a busy high street with that sign round my neck and could do nothing about it. My first thoughts were that I would end up in the nick with an indecent exposure charge to face. Then I thought how embarrassed I felt. Already people were beginning to notice me, pointing, whistling, cheering, staring, and, oh my god, the dreaded mobile phones were beginning to appear. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, Anne's hen party begun to emerge from the pub ready for their next stop.
The group took a few seconds to spot me, and then a few more seconds to recognise me, and then a few more seconds to react. Stunned silence seemed to be the most common immediate reaction, then laughs, giggles and more pointing. Anne was pulled to the front of the group with all her party talking excitedly to her at the same time. I couldn't make out her reaction, shock certainly, then perhaps a smile turning into a giggle, and then perhaps reluctant laughter to join in with the others.
They just seemed to stand and stare for ages. Then Maureen, the Finance Manager and Anne's boss, read the words on the sign out loud so all could hear and then said "So girls who's going to be first to give him a kiss?". Silence. A few seconds that seemed like minutes then, "Seems such a shame to disappoint such a fine young man who is at our mercy, doesn't it? So is no-one willing to make his day?"
Maureen approached a bit closer and the others sort of followed in her wake. Maureen would be about mid forties and was dressed very elegantly but with certain sexiness I had never noticed at work. She was wearing a floaty summer dress, quite short, ample cleavage, and high heels and bare legs. She came closer until she stopped a few inches from me, reached out and stroked my cheek gently, then leaned forward and said quietly in my ear, "What have they done to you, you poor boy? You look so vulnerable there all naked and at our mercy. Do you really want us to give you a kiss< and will your lovely Anne think if we do, I wonder?" Her soft breath on my neck, gentle touch on my cheek and her closeness suddenly began to have an effect on me. I blushed deep red as I felt a little twitch in my cock, barely noticeable but clearly felt.
Maureen stepped a bit closer until she was within an inch of me. "Would you like me to give you a kiss just like the notice says? Or would you rather I use my nail scissors to cut that cable tie? I wonder what you'd prefer?" As she said that she gently drew her fingers down my chest using her nails to gently tease me, but her closeness hid this from view. By now, I realised that she was enjoying this situation and was deliberately teasing me and again my cock twitched as I tried my hardest to keep it down. She noticed the twitch, "So I think I have my answer" she said.
