Elly's Liberation

After I sent my nude pictures anonymously to Libby, and then confessing my ruse and speaking with her on the phone, and then posting a strip-teasing series of my own on the public boards at Literotica, and losing control with Libby as I did so and degenerating into some of the best (and most confusing) phone sex ever had in the history of the phone -- after all of that, I was sure I'd never do anything like it again.

But the next day, I couldn't keep my mind off it. I could hardly think about anything else. I was like a zombie. The kids could barely hold my attention for more than a couple of minutes, I was so distracted I sent them off to school with each others' lunches, and then in the evening I got Fahrenheit mixed up with Celsius (or vice versa -- bloody ovens) and burnt our dinners and had to take us all out for burgers and chips. My head was stuck firmly in the clouds; I was about as useful as a pair of wet socks.

I couldn't keep myself from reliving the thrills, the excitement, the utter abandonment of what I had done. That night -- the very night after my wickedness with the pictures and with Libby -- I had found a fairly shaky pretext for sending the kids to bed early, I was locked in my room with a heavy settee propped against the door, and I was back on the boards at Literotica, reviewing my work and reliving the night prior.

It was intoxicating; it was like the best drug ever invented, sprinkled over and mixed into the best alcoholic cocktail ever shaken-not-stirred. I went into my own thread and loaded up each of my pics, one by one, just like thousands of other people as indicated by the hit-counters; and I lingered, longly and deliciously over each one of them, rubbing my hands up and down my legs and sides most tenderly, riling myself up exquisitely.

I was nearing the end of my series, and I had only just barely slipped my fingers into my knickers to rub myself up yet again -- I was at serious risk of callusing, such was the frequency of my masturbation over those past few days -- when I received notice of a new PM. I groaned inwardly; either it was yet another unbidden declaration of undying love from some half-balanced perv to join the other fifty-five I had deleted out of my inbox, or it was Libby. And I simply wasn't prepared to deal with her again; I still hadn't quite figured out exactly what had happened between us the night prior, what it meant and how we could go onwards from wherever we were.

But I was wrong; it was neither Libby nor a love-struck puppy. It was aussie_101 -- my husband, Tom! "Well hello, 'misstralia'," he began. "I hardly even dare to say it, but you seem somewhat familiar to me...?"

My heart did double-summersaults of delight. Tom had no idea I had discovered Literotica and the amateur photography boards; he was still overseas on his book tour and would remain so for at least another week. Lord knows for what original purpose he had come onto Literotica (the naughty little boy), but he must have come across the thread that Libby had started, the thread that held my pictures. And as he went through the pictures, he may have recognised my surroundings as our bedroom... or he may have put two and two together, observing that Libby's "very good friend" had a body awfully similar to mine... or he may simply have recognised me by my tits. Heaven above knows he's stared at them for long enough.

But sweetly, having found my pics he hardly dared to hope, hardly dare to pray that it was me -- that I, Kelly his wife, was wicked and demonly enough to take nude photos of myself, and to share them with the world -- and share them with Libby, which on its own was a concept bound to get him all hot and heavy. "...you seem somewhat familiar to me," he had typed; just like him, to state with heavy understatement that which seemed so screamingly obvious, yet so unlikely and wonderful and terrible all at once...

"Hi Tom," I wrote in reply. "You and Libby have been awfully busy, haven't you?"

"OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG," he wrote back, making me laugh. "Holy shit! Holy fuck! Fuck a duck til it's dead! Kelly!!!"

"Yes, Tom," I wrote, with an enormous grin. "You're not the only one in this family who can work a tripod, you know."

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit..." he typed -- he was obviously having trouble believing it, behaving as though he had won seven lotteries all at once. "You're... you're into this?" he wrote. "You like this?"

I pondered how best to respond... "Fuck yeah!" I wrote. "It's the best thing ever! I never would have thought about it, never would even have considered doing such a thing or that I would enjoy it -- but then I found Firefox on your computer, and found all those literotica pages in your browsing history... and I found Libby's pictures and recognised her by her nurse's costume, and I went through all her photos and I just got so turned on!"

"You did?" Tom asked -- and even from ten thousand miles' distance I could see his optimistic grin.

"Well, not like that -- not how you're thinking," I corrected him. "I was turned on by the concept, not strictly by Libby's tits; the idea of getting your gear off, slowly, shot by shot, with hundreds of people watching on ... it got me quite hot and bothered, I can tell you."

"I know what you mean," wrote Tom. "I'd always wanted to involve you in this, you know? I've had so much fun on this site, it's such a blast -- but you've always been against pornography and erotica and all that sort of stuff, and then me and Libby were kinda sorta dilly-dallying a little bit and I was afraid how you'd take that..."

"Yeah, you two have been a little bit naughty, haven't you?" I wrote, but with a ;) on the end to show it was okay. "Tom: I want you to know I appreciate that you never actually crossed the line with Libby. I checked through all of your posts, and you were never anything more than warm and supportive and just a really good friend to Libby. I love you so much Tom. Thank you for being so good to my friend :-)"

"Aww, don't you worry about it," Tom typed, shortly. We both knew there was a little more to it than that -- Libby had told me about the phone-sex she and Tom had had; but he wasn't going to mention it, and I was actually glad of that because it meant I didn't have to mention the phone-sex that Libby and I had had only the night prior. All of that was something Tom and I could address another time; right now I was just glad to have him, and to have the rest of it out in the open.

"But Kells -- these pics of yours..." Tom went on. "They're just so, so... hot! But still tasteful, and demure, and alluring all at once... it's like you've been posing nude for the camera all your life, you're such a natural! What have you been up to behind my back, eh? Who you been posing for?? ;)"

"Just the postman," I typed. "And the milkman. And all the various visiting plumbers, electricians, carpet-cleaners, pool-boys... you know: the fathers of our children..."

"Yeah yeah," Tom replied, unimpressed at the old joke that I liked to hit him with from time-to-time. "But damn, Kells -- you've got such a huge following already! You're gunna make poor old Libs jealous, you've hijacked half of her fans. You got any more pics of yourself, perchance?" he added, hopefully.

"I was just starting to think about shooting a new series..." I typed, truthfully; while looking over my photos, the urge to pose again was almost overwhelming. An idea occurred: "But you know, I'm not sure I really want to... maybe you should take some pics too, to inspire me... ;)"

"Sounds like a challenge!" Tom typed with obvious glee. "Tell you what: how about we sign off for an hour or so; set up our cameras, do another strip-tease; and then we'll send each other our pics, one-by-one."

"I'll go you one better," I replied, with a wicked grin growing upon my face. "We'll take our pics... go to my thread... and we'll post them up there, one-by-one."

"For all the world to see?"

"What's the matter?" I goaded. "Scared??"

"Hot damn but I'm loving this new exhibitionist in you," Tom told me. "Are you sure you're my wife of ten years? Who is this? What have you done with my Kelly?"

"Oh, so you want the old, prudish, no-nudie-pics Kelly to come back, do you?"

"No no, no no no!" Tom retracted. "No, you tell her she can stay away. I want Kells the Soft-Porn-Star to stay!"

"I thought you might," I grinned. "Okay, see you in an hour. And I'm telling you this now: your boner better be bigger than the one Libby's pics gave you in your last series, or there'll be hell to pay."

"Honey, honestly: your body bangs ten times harder than Libby's," Tom promised me. "I'd fuck you before I'd fuck her any day."

"Good to hear!" I cheered, joyed at the rather forthright news. "Now go get naked, take some pics!"

"I will. You too!"

So we broke off for about an hour. I double-checked that my bedroom door was good and properly braced against the ingress of children, set up the tripod and camera, and got to work. On finishing I put my pics on the computer and did the usual trimming and cropping, removing my face from each shot for the sake of safety; half-way through I got a PM from my Tom, "All done over here -- let me know when you're ready."

A few more minutes of cropping and getting the pics just right, and I was ready. "Okay, let's do this," I PMed him.

"Now are you sure you want to do this on the public boards? In your thread, for everyone to see?" Tom checked again. "I don't mind if you'd rather do it by PM..."

"Don't you think it'd be more fun if we let the world watch? ;)" I told him. Hell if I was gunna do it just by PM; the thought of stripping off again for all and sundry to see, and Tom doing the same, had me quaking at the nether-regions with delicious anticipation.

"Okay then! :)" Tom fired back. "See you there..."

I was already typing a post in my thread -- and the thread was up to its eighth page, flowing over with dozens of praising posts from people all round the world, clammering for more, begging me to post up another series. "Well hello, my many fans," I began. "Thank you so much for all of your kind words. I'm sure you'll be glad to hear: since you've all been most encouraging and inspirational, I've been hard at work with the camera. So prepare yourself for another dose of misstralia... but this time, with a twist: my beautiful husband, aussie_101 himself, is also online tonight; and we're going to do a little strip-tease for each other, going pic for pic, tit for tat, right here in my thread for all of you to enjoy. I'll start things off, now it's over to you, hubby!"

And I posted my first pic: I was dressed in one of the pants-suits that I wear to work, looking very prim and proper and professional -- a delicious contrast to that which we all knew was ahead.

I didn't have to wait for long; aussie_101's post came up soon after. "Well thank you, misstralia," he began. "It certainly is nice to have you join us all here in the wonderful world of literotica. Good to see you have a healthy army of fans, too! I always told you you're a sexy thing; and from the confident, fiery, raw sexuality we've seen in your pics so far, I'm glad to see you finally believe me."

'Yak yak yak,' I thought. 'Get to the pictures!'

"So here we go: quite by coincidence, you've caught me in my best suit too. A meeting of professionals, as it were ;)" and there was the link at the bottom; loading up the pic I saw he was indeed in one of his nicest suits, quite an expensive one that he likes to wear to meetings with publishers, prospective producers wanting to make films or TV shows from his books, and the like.

Tom always did look fantastic in a suit. He's always had a marvellous strength to his upper body, blessed with broad shoulders, a subtle power in the set of his chest and good strong arms; the suit, trimmed and cut expensively and expertly with the barest hint of padding about the shoulders, only served to emphasise and highlight his assets.

"Looking good, babe!" I typed in my reply, with which I posted my next picture: turned to the back now with butt-to-camera, my generous booty and hourglass curves were there to see -- it's only now that I've seen it so often from this angle have I realised that my arse is actually quite awesome, if I do say so myself.

"Great minds think alike..." wrote Tom: his next pic was almost the same pose as mine, he'd turned around rump-to-camera and he had hitched his suit-jacket up just a touch to better reveal that cute little arse of his: perky, firm and muscular; I always have loved Tom's butt...

"Very nice... now let's REALLY get started ;)" I wrote. In the attached picture I was shrugging out of my suit jacket, revealing a fine white button-down blouse beneath; this shirt was fairly thin, not totally opaque, and a hint of black lacy bra could be seen beneath.

"Right back atcha!" Tom replied -- and his photo was again the same, him kicking his shoulders out of his jacket with an overwrought, manly flourish that made me smile at his deliberate dopiness.

"Nice pose in that shot of yours," I teased, with a :P on the end. Nevertheless, I still attached my next picture, showing me with the shirt half-unbuttoned; the shirt was fairly loose and billowy, falling away from my nicely-large breasts to reveal a few hints of sexy red lace worked into my black bra.

"Ooh! I've always loved that bra :)" Tom assured me. His picture was a bit different to mine, he was in the midst of slipping his expensive, button-down silk shirt over his head, not bothering to unbutton it; the pose served to flatter his stomach, which was not overly ripped or muscular but still strong, flat and with the faintest outlines of a six-pack to be seen, with a light and manly covering of his fair-coloured chest hair extending down his stomach and disappearing below his belt.

"In a hurry to get nekkid, are we?" I prodded, as I posted up my next pic: another slow step along the process, with my shirt fully unbuttoned now and my arms reaching back and down to let the shirt fall behind me to the floor, a pose designed to help my breasts stand up and push together even better.

"Would ya look at that cleavage!" Tom implored of no-one in particular. "Awesome, baby: truly awesome. You're getting me good and riled-up now, my dear..." he confessed, with a knowing ;) as he posted another picture of his own: the shirt was off, his strong and manly chest was bare and set in a macho, shoulders-back and somewhat-tilted pose -- though his face was cropped out I could imagine him trying to pull some sort of smoky-eyed, searing gaze in the style of a modern male uber-model.

"Riled, are we? Feeling the heat, eh?" I responded, coyly. My new picture had me back-to-camera again, with my suit-pants coming down; my bottom was pooched out just that tiny little bit so as to emphasise the booty, as it were, which was adorned with a black-and-red lacy V-string bottom to match the bra.

"Aww man..." wrote Tom, and I imagined him groaning it with exquisite pleasure as he drank in the sight of my partially-exposed buns, framed vampishly in the alluring dark lace of my underwear. "I've always loved those bangers, too! By fuck you are hot, my dear :)" and even in the short time since I had last refreshed the page, other people had put up their own posts in agreement with him; indeed, each of our posts were interrupted and interspersed with the hot-and-heavy contributions of others.

But I cared not for the opinions of these bystanders: I clicked greedily on the pic Tom had attached to his post. With no bra to take off and his chest fully bared, Tom would have foreseen he'd have to slow things down so as not to overtake me in my series -- so he hadn't advanced too far in his strip-tease, merely having unbuckled the belt and slipped it a way out of his trousers, brandishing the thing in what I'm sure he had thought was a dangerous manner (it came across as comical in the end -- but that's my Tom for you).

I decided to turn up the heat a little. "Glad you like, my dear," I wrote. "Now: tell me what you're doing, right now..." and I posted it up without a picture attachment.

"Umm..." came Tom's quick reply, "you didn't post up a pic with that one...?"

"And I'm not gunna post any more til you tell us all what you're doing to yourself ;)" I posted back, thrilling in my wickedness -- Libby wasn't the only one who could blackmail a rise out of Tom.

"Let's just say... I've got a really good grip on things :D" was Tom's short, suggestive reply.

"Mmm... I'll bet you do..." I wrote; as I posted it up with a new picture, I imagined what Tom was doing on the other side of the world: crouched in front of his laptop, drooling over my pics with his piece out -- large and hard, tall and erect as always, with his hand stroking it gently and slowly. In the picture I'd posted, my trousers were gone, and I stood proudly before the camera in my underwear: there I was, exposed, curvaceous, voluptuous and hot... The entire situation had my own excitement bubbling over, and I greedily thrust my hand into my pants once again, pressing down hard over my spot and biting my lip at the pleasure brought by my rough self-treatment.

"That's right: I've got a good firm grip... and I'm giving it just a bit of a rub, only very gently..." Tom continued. He had guessed at what I wanted from him: I wanted him to tell me, and tell everybody how he was pleasuring himself, how he was getting himself off good and hard while he stared at my pics, how he was wanking over pics of his hot sexy wife. And the picture he'd attached was a good one: continuing his strip-tease, the belt was gone and the fly was undone, and he had both hands about his pelvis: one held one side of his pants up, but the other reefed the opposite side of his pants down a good long way, showing off a bit of the bulge in his jocks and an alluring bit of upper-thigh and lower-pelvis.

"Ooh... me like..." I wrote in reply; I went back to drink in the picture again, lingering good and long, immersed in the strength of his chest and stomach, the beautiful proportion about his hips and legs, and the gloriously large bulge in his partially-revealed jocks... I was rubbing myself now, my fingers slipping under the crotch of my panties (the same black-and-red lacy ones, I'd put them back on after I'd finished taking my pics) and seeking out my tingling little clit amid the slick depths of my pooling juices. "Me like very much," I finished typing, attaching my next picture and posting it up.

My new picture: now I had my arms reaching back again, having freshly undone my bra, and it was falling forwards, falling off my breasts, slipping down, almost (but not quite) revealing my nipples, almost (but not quite) giving the game away...

"Oh baby -- you do tease so! You strip far too slowly," Tom admonished. "Come on, give it up quicker. Show us the lot!"

"All in good time..." I grinned. "Now come on: your turn. Where's your next pic??"

"Okay okay, hold your horses ;)" Tom wrote in his reply. "Tis tricky, typing and attaching pics with only one hand..."

"Mmm, I know what you mean..." I wrote in reply -- I grinned an even larger Cheshire-style grin, and decided it was time to get into some raunchy detail. "...I've got one hand well and truly devoted to pleasuring myself; it's thrust hard down my pants, into my panties, and I'm working long, slow and hard at my wet, hot, sopping little cunt..."

"!!!" was all he wrote, as he finally posted up his next pic: now his trousers were on the floor about his ankles, and to top it off he had reefed one side of his grundies down to bare his hip and show off some of his pubes -- a trick I remembered him pulling in his last series, the one he'd so grudgingly posted up (yeah right -- "grudgingly" my arse) so as to end Libby's self-imposed embargo on her own pictures.