Exposed Ch 07

Before I share the exhibitionist details of my married life, I do have some notable exposures that 'bare' (mispelling is intentional) mention.

First honorable mention that I neglected to write about is what may have led up to the taking of my boyfriend down into the basement and essentially performing my first hand job.(See chapter 4)

I had stated that I wasn't sure what caused my impulsiveness to make him squirt.

As I continue to write about my early sexual experiences, more of the details from my past seem to become revealed.

This is what I now remember to have occurred leading up to the basement splash.

For the entire week whenever I would talk to my boyfriend, I hinted about my new red panties.

By the time the weekend rolled around we were both quite desperate to expose them. I had on a white denim mini skirt that gapped at the waist any time I bent over.

My boyfriend arrived at my front door for dinner, which was becoming more and more of a typical event as my family had accepted him wholeheartedly. My acceptance of him started with my heart but had definitely moved south in the past year.

I led him into the living room and we both sat down on the front couch.

As I leaned forward in the process of planting my derriere on the seat cushion, my boyfriend took the opportunity to slip his hand down inside the waistband of my skirt.

He was so determined to get a hold of my satin covered cheeks that he shoved his hand far enough down my back to completely cup one of them.

All of this was done while I was in the act of sitting down.

Once my posture settled on the sofa, his hand was trapped inside my skirt gripping my barely covered cheek.

As I wiggled enjoying the constant fondling of my bottom, my mother decided to walk into the living room to casually talk to my boyfriend.

When you are young you think that your parents can't notice certain activities such as having your boyfriend's hand implanted down the back of your skirt.

My mother never let on that she noticed anything, but it is difficult to believe that she didn't.

The conversation was normal asking my boyfriend about school and his part time job, but I couldn't help fidgeting with his fingers constantly gripping my cheek.

My entire face turned red with embarrassment causing my mother to ask if I was feeling all right.

As I replied that I was OK, my boyfriend wriggled his fingers deeper down my back until the tips were at the front door of my most erogenous zone.

I felt that if I parted my legs, my mother would see two fingers poking out from underneath my crotch.

It certainly didn't help having my legs squeezed together as it forced his fingers right up against my lower lips.

I was starting to perspire as the combination of extreme embarrassment and unexpected arousal was having its effect on me.

Thankfully my mother had to get back to the kitchen and we were left alone just long enough for me to take a hold of my boyfriend's wrist extracting his magic massager from the inside of my skirt.

Don't get me wrong. I loved having him fondle me especially on the inside of my clothes. I just didn't want another member of my family to walk in as I was getting close to orgasm.

I took his hand pulling him through the house and down the stairs to the basement.

Somehow I thought that I needed to get even for his fondling of me right in front of my mother whether she was aware of it or not.

I was going to expose him and bring him to a boil with most of my family occupying the space right above us.

Let's see how he likes to feel vulnerable and out of control.

Somewhere between the first step and the last I seem to have lost my intent as it was my skirt that hit the floor leaving me standing just at the bottom of the basement stairs wearing a midriff t-shirt and a pair of bright red brazilian cut bikini panties.

If you have been keeping up with my semi-autobiography, you know all that happened next.

If not, please go back to Chapter 4 and you will get all of the wonderfully sordid details.

The second honorable mention followed two months or so after my police exposure. My boyfriend and I attended a formal that was held at his University.

It was a black tie dinner and dance that they held for the seniors every winter.

I dressed in a formal gown while my boyfriend rented a black tuxedo.

The event was extremely enjoyable spending time with his classmates and friends.

Once the evening wound down and he proceeded to drive me home, we took a little detour to the parkway.

The thought was that it was too cold for the police to be out and checking on parkers. Even if they were it would most likely be in a car and thus they would be spotted well enough ahead of time to get covered up.

It was my intent to pull my formal gown up my legs allowing my boyfriend access to my thighs and possibly my panties.

However once we got to kissing and fondling each other through our clothes my intentions of remaining somewhat covered flew out the window.

As we embraced and french kissed each other I felt my boyfriend's hand move away from the front of my chest (Yes, he had been cupping my breast through my dress and bra.) locating the tongue of my zipper at the top of my gown.

Down, down, down, the zipper went finally stopping basically even with the top of my derrier.

His hand then slipped inside my gown cupping my left cheek and giving it a good squeeze.

The mixture of pain and raw passion coursed through me and I found myself pulling the top of my gown off of my shoulders and down my arms.

As the fabric settled around my waist my black demi-cup bra was completely revealed including the front clasp that kept it closed.

My boyfriend's hand quickly slipped under the cup of my bra easily finding a very erect and hard little nub begging for attention.

He pinched my nipple between his two fingers and I let out a loud moan of supplication.

I wanted more.

I took a hold of the clasp between the two cups of my bra and with a simple twist undid it allowing the fabric to drop away from my very aroused nipples and breasts.

His face sank into my chest and I felt his tongue lick the very tip of one nipple sending heat waves down my torso and into my crotch.

His other hand was sliding up my thigh highs looking to pet my purring kitty, but the voluminous fabric of my gown was inhibiting his progress.

I wanted more.

Placing both hands on my hips I easily slid the bottom of my gown completely down my legs and over my high heels and off.

Without any thought given to any wrinkling effect, I balled up the fabric and threw it into the front seat.

I was now sitting in the back seat of my boyfriend's car wearing nothing but a pair of black thigh high nylons, black high heels, and and a newly purchased leopard print string bikini panty.

Any thought of being discovered by the "parking" police or even keeping a lookout for a police car was overwhelmed by the vibrations of sexual energy flowing through my body.

I wanted more.

I leaned back against the side of the back door and let my boyfriend do his magic as he alternately pinched, pulled, licked, and sucked on my extremely sensitive bare nipples, while his other hand polished my erect little kernel through the thin fabric of my leopard print panties.

It didn't take long for my entire body to harden into one tense muscle as the pre-orgasmic wave of sexual energy pushed forward.

I took in a deep breathe of air and gave myself over to the series of spasms and convulsions that now rocked my body.

It was becoming obvious to me that being in any sort of public place wearing not much more than a pair of string bikini panties was my aphrodisiac.

My boyfriend had become quite accomplished at masturbating me to orgasm, however my ability to come was greatly enhanced when I was so exposed in a public venue.

The moment my clothes started to come off, my body was already reacting by poking my nipples forward, emitting warm and slick secretions into the crotch of my panties, opening my lower lips, and filling my tiny kernel with blood making it easily identifiable by his exploring fingers.

Essentially I didn't require any stimulation other than to have my clothes removed leaving me wearing either a bra and panties or just panties.

From that point forward my eventual orgasm was guaranteed.

How I had evolved from such a sexually inexperienced young woman into an orgasm seeking exhibitionist was anybody's guess.

The pattern had become almost routine. I wanted to be wearing as little as possible, although never naked, in a public setting.

Parks, parked cars, basements, lake fronts, etc., etc. had become my stage for exposure.

The cool air or the warm air that enwrapped my exposed skin sensually informed me that I was barely clothed.

The look that enveloped my boyfriend's face told me that I was sexy, i.e. very sexy.

The mixed feelings of helplessness, submissiveness, and anxiety combined to completely arouse me.

I loved all of it. It had become my addiction.

After my convulsions came to an end and before the warm glow of orgasmic bliss left my body I reached for my boyfriend's zipper and applied the same technique that he had performed earlier on my dress.

Once it was down I easily found his throbbing erection. With a simple pull of the fabric of his bikini briefs out came his firm flesh glistening with dew and begging for a kiss.

By the way, the zipper on a tuxedo pant is considerably longer than that found on a normal pair of pants. I could comfortably slide my entire hand into the opening and wrap my fingers around his erection.

It was incredibly sexy to me to be able to work with ease inside the opening.

I earlier told you about my tendency to salivate when I get very aroused. Well, this time was no different, and once I had my boyfriend's entire penis sticking through the opening, I leaned forward placing my head directly into his crotch and wrapping my already wet lips around his warm flesh.

Lifting my lower body up onto the seat until I was in kneeling position I sucked on his champaign bottle with my leopard print buttocks facing up in the air.

I am not sure exactly why, however, as I was in this position, he gave my exposed derriere a smart slap across one cheek.

It stung sharply causing me to lose suction on his erection as a small gasp of surprise and pain escaped my lips.

As my exposed flesh stung in the cold night air, that area right between my legs began to salivate.

I can't explain what it was exactly, but his firm slap of my backside had gotten me aroused. As aroused as I got when stripped or stripping off my clothes.

As the pain lingered my oral efforts on his erection renewed until my lips were sliding effortlessly up and down on his flesh.

I felt another sharp slap across my other cheek, but this time it only served to further incite my performance.

Was it my lack of clothing that gave me that welcome feeling of helplessness and submission to his assault on my derriere?

Did a sense of being his sexual slave existing only to serve in whatever capacity he required of me arouse my primal nature?

Did I have a secret desire to be nothing more than a sexual plaything and pin up to this young man that seemed to know my slowly unveiling longings?

Or did I feel the need to be punished for what I may have believed to be my sexual deviancies?

I honestly don't know and pretty much don't care, but I was aroused by his slaps across my derriere and obviously so was he. Very shortly after his second stinging application across my derriere, the cork of his bottle exploded heaving its first gush of hot liquid inside of my mouth.

I quickly swallowed as the first gush was followed by another and then another. Each one hot and thick requiring me to swallow so as not to have it burst from my closed lips.

It was as if he hadn't had a good orgasm in ages.

I wondered how much of the spanking that he had given me was responsible for this abundant liquid outburst.

I wanted to reach between my legs and finish what his slaps had started but wasn't comfortable enough as yet to masturbate in front of him.

Instead I forced myself to calm down when all of the time I wanted to place myself across his lap with my backside present and accounted for.

After we had put ourselves back in order and all of my erogenous zones had had time to calm down, he wrapped his arms around me.

The silence was broken when he asked if he had hurt me when he spanked me. "It was okay," I replied tentatively.

How could I possibly admit to him that I liked it. I mean that I liked it a lot.

He then apologized stating that he didn't quite know why he had done it.

I assured him that I didn't mind. How could I possibly let him know that I liked being spanked? Wasn't that something that sadists and masochists enjoyed?

I certainly wasn't one of them. Was I??

I had never been spanked as a child and only related the act to a form of punishment. It never occurred to me that a sharp smack across my buttocks would result in so much liquid activity between my legs.

How could something that stung and burned result in my arousal?

It made no sense to me other than feeling that something was wrong with me. I tried not to think about it, but it soon became the center of my masturbatory thoughts late at night while alone in my room.

From that point forward my derriere was subject to any number of pinches, grabbing, and slapping particularly when I was wearing anything tight, which was most of the time.

I found myself quite fond of the physical attention afforded it and began to encourage it whenever we were together.

It aroused me then and continues to arouse me now.

One final honorable mention to share.

On a beautiful fall day as the calendar marched towards winter and the sun had not as yet lost its warmth, we took a trip to a local flower garden and nature conservancy. As we strolled hand and hand along the paths looking at the flowers, shrubs, and trees present their last burst of color, I felt my boyfriend's hand slip out of my hand and reposition itself on my lower back.

The slight sense of touch so close to my newly discovered erogenous zone caused me to tremble in anticipation.

It wasn't long before his hand slid downward across my awaiting buttocks giving my right cheek a hard squeeze.

His firm grasp on my derriere easily awakened my animal passion.

It barely remained dormant when we were together anymore.

We exited the gardens walking across the parking lot to a nature walk through a woods. Although we weren't alone, my boyfriend's manual attention to my backside continued whenever no one was directly behind us on the path.

We walked through the woods to an opening that contained a meadow overflowing with the tall grasses of autumn.

Taking my hand, my boyfriend led us off the stone path winding our way into the meadow until we were about 40 yards away.

He kneeled down pulling me with him until we were virtually hidden by the tall grass. It had become such a habit for me that I no longer noticed how quickly I would undo my pants whenever we were alone.

Down went my hands to my front clasp and zipper effortlessly unveiling my latest panty acquisition.

I had ventured from the somewhat revealing to the very revealing as my new bikini panties were completely sheer in a yellow fishnet type of material.

When I say completely, I mean completely; front, back, crotch, everywhere.

Other than brief glimpses, I had never put my trimmed mound on full display before. Now here I was barely a stone's throw from a public walking path with my pants pulled open showing off all of me in a slight yellow tint.

The waist band had white daisy appliqués that completely bordered the top, but every part of my anatomy south of the daisy chain was exposed.

I grabbed for the waist of my pants as my boyfriend attempted to pull them down my legs, but my effort to remain covered was halfhearted and a bit comical.

My upbringing had taught me that a proper young lady does not allow herself to be stripped from the waist down particularly in a public area and certainly not with sheer panties on.

The tingling started as my pants made their way down my thighs, over my knees, then down my calves eventually bunching up at my ankles.

My boyfriend easily pulled them free of my tennis shoes and off my pants came.

The tingling was intensifying and starting to invade my most sensitive erogenous zone.

I laid on my back letting the sun soak through the sheer material causing my panties to seem even more transparent than they were.

I could feel a drop of sexual dew beginning to exit from my lower lips.

The sound of couples conversing with each other as they meandered along the meadow's border should have caused me concern resulting in a quick grab of the fabric of my pants and a urgent pull up my legs.

Instead it only served to further arouse me.

My boyfriend realized long before I ever did that I enjoyed, in fact I relished, being stripped to my undies in public places.

It wasn't that I wanted to be seen by others, but the thought of possibly being seen by others was my aphrodisiac.

As I continued to lay on my back he placed his hand on my lower abdomen letting his extended fingers play with the waist band of my panties.

I didn't quite know what to expect as his usual attack was to slide his hand up my thigh until it found my moistening crotch.

This time his frontal assault was from above instead of below.

I sucked in my stomach in anticipation of what might follow.

As he continued to slide his fingers along the waist band of my sheer panties, one finger after the other found itself under the elastic.

He continued to move his hand back and forth across my abdomen until the fingers reached the very top of my trimmed muffin.

This was the first time that he was touching any part of me concealed by my panties.

Up to this point all of his fondling was through the nylon fabric of my undies. This time he knew consciously or unconsciously that I was ready for direct contact.

I unconsciously moved my legs apart putting out my welcome mat to his arrival.

Once he reached my mound the sliding motion stopped and I felt his fingers move straight downward until the tips of the longest two where exploring the opening space between my salivating lower lips.

Bolts of sexual electricity shot through me. Until this day, only my fingers had ever occupied this spot.

I was salivating like crazy from both sets of lips.

His middle finger easily found my slick pearl and began to polish it slightly moving it up and out from between my lips.

I arched my back in total supplication to his efforts luxuriating in the raw sensuality of his motions.

I don't think that I had ever played with myself any better than he was at this time.

It wasn't long before I was moving my groin in a rhythm to match his ministrations.

My mouth emitted soft little groans and moans of Uh, Uh, and Oh, Oh.

I reached for the crotch of his pants hoping to reciprocate, but he wouldn't let me.

He wanted to watch me orgasm instead; unprotected, exposed, and submissive. So I did.

As the spasms took over my body the feeling of the grass rubbing against the sheer fabric separating my bare skin from the earth only served to intensify everything as it was a continuous reminder that I was outdoors barely dressed and orgasming.

God, it was the best orgasm that I had ever had; at least to that point.

The entire time that I shook and shimmied in orgasmic bliss the sounds of people so close to us only served to reinforce my desire to have sexual experiences in public places.

When you experience such incredible orgasms your mind stores the entire experience in great detail to try and duplicate it in the future as often as possible.