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.
