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.
