L'Étrangère!
© 2009 - 2023 Literocat
A few years ago, my wife and I decided to head off the common problems that come from cheating. Sex had become routine and less exciting and we both wanted more. We agreed that we could flirt, but would not do ANYthing physical. I knew she was a closeted flasher in complete denial and decided to stop protecting her false modesty. That also meant I had to stop pointing out all the times she "accidentally" exposed her tits or panties. At that time, I was overly conservative and protective of "MY WOMAN," old world style.
Sue had been adamant about her modesty and seemed appropriately embarrassed when too much flesh was exposed. That meant
when
,
not if, her blouse ballooned away from her small tits, even when she wore a bra;
when
her skirt billowed or twirled up exposing her sexy thighs and panties; or
when
those panties or her skin-tight pants clearly advertised her lusty, swollen camel toe. She even flashed her bare pussy on occasion — especially when getting in or out of a car one leg at a time. What would you call stripping naked at her window and rubbing her tits and pussy where others could see her?
Her claimed level of modesty, if real, would require her to take steps to prevent her exposure long before there was any nip slip or exposed ass cheeks. When I had the temerity to be supportive of her "desired" modesty and cover her exposed bits, she'd get royally pissed off. That aspect of our relationship, as well as others I had yet to discover, was based on her lies. We were doomed unless we exposed the truth. What it took me even longer to realize was that her "accidental" exposure was a means of expressing self control and I was in her way.
Once I forced her to accept her exhibitionism and admit she actually enjoyed flashing, things went better for us. How I did that and her increasingly risky behavior is another story. This account reveals
my
first serious encounter since we agreed to loosen our shackles and allow anything up to, but not including, intercourse contacts. But sometimes even the best umm, laid plans . . .
When my paternal company sent me to a special, week long, training 1200 miles from home, I learned that they were concurrently sponsoring a multinational conference in that same city. We very nearly filled two large hotels with just our own employees. All of us were strangers among friends. By default we were all bonded within our company family, even if many of us came from so many countries. Since I believe in the "WE ARE ONE" philosophy, that allowed greater degrees of familiarity and comfort than total strangers might expect to feel. It was with that relaxed familiarity that I approached a plain yet pretty, belle-laide, young woman.
During my second night, after training, I went to the hotel pool and hot tub. It was nearly deserted. I smiled briefly at the five others still in the pool. Less friendly than expected, three of them climbed out and left immediately. I'm a poor swimmer, but I float like a rock so I hopped into the shallow end of the cold pool near the one remaining male and one female. Once I swam the width of the pool twice, I stopped between the other two. They weren't talking so I began.
I waved, "Hi, I'm Al from NYC. I'm here for 9100 system support training. May I assume that you guys are also with BMI?" In a "deer in headlights" way, they glanced at each other then nodded silently. This was off to a poor start. I tried pressing a little more. "Where are you from?"
"I'm Tom, from Bahston. I'm here for PSahR training on the 9100. Nice to meet a friendly fellah."
"Je suis Mireille, ummm I yam called Mireille and I am ere from la France. I too am training for the ardware soupor on that same system. Please to pardon my Eenglish. Enchantee." She had the soft, immature and innocent look of a fourteen-year-old, yet somehow had a curvy, slim waist topped with full C cups. Her face also seemed immaturely rounded, yet she had to be at least eighteen to work for BMI. Her smooth, pale legs were also rounded and soft looking, yet oddly alluring. And that accent! Ouu la la!
"Enchantee belle Mireille . . . and Tom." We made small talk for some time, finally relaxing enough to tease and splash each other. She wore a simple one-piece black swim suit with a two inch wide, gold inlaid, diagonal stripe that ran from her slim waist, over the single strap and back to her rear waist. It strongly looked like a beauty contestant's sash on a strapless suit. The "sash" climbed over her left shoulder and diagonally to the top center of the low cut, straight-top suit. The way it connected provided minimal support for the material covering her left breast, and none at all for her right one.
Our splashing and cavorting became less reserved; we even popped up thru the water to surprise Tom. When Mireille popped up between us and splashed us both, the water dragged her suit down a little and her right breast sprang freely into view. She was still laughing at how surprised we looked and didn't notice her pale, bare boob teasing us. She followed our eyes to her exposed tit and casually covered it. "Merde, this suit, she is always a problem. Not so much for me, but for the people embarrassee by the skin."
"No need to cover up on our account." I stuttered and splashed her again to distract her. She splashed me back and laughed, trying to look mortified despite her blase coverup, then went to lean against the side of the pool. Maybe the flirty looks Mireille and I had been exchanging prompted Tom to leave, so he soon climbed out of the pool.
"I'm heading back to my room. You kids enjoy the pool. Oh, a few of us are meeting there. Come join us when you're done here and make some more new friends. No need to change first, we're just having a few drinks and chatting. Room 2323. See you soon?"
"Maybe another night, I was dinking to bed early tonight. . . ."
"Or maybe tonight. I'll try talking her into your soiree." She looked at me sadly. Tom left and I began some porpoise-like leaps, face up toward her. The fast leaps, and arms stretched over my head, helped my reversible suit slip down. It had no internal support for my manly bits and was at least one size too big. I was well aware of the suit sliding past my hips and did all I could to daringly help it along while she kept a wary eye on me. Her focus on my nomadic suit brought on an anticipation erection despite the cold water. I caught her furtive stares at the tent in my suit and her nervous expectation each time I burst out of the water. Seems she's not as blase about nudity as she implies. We both expected the suit to slip to my knees or vanish before my next leap, though neither would admit it. I'd never been so daring with a stranger, and I loved it.
Mireille kept watching until she could see my pubes exposed before she climbed out of the pool and dropped into the hot tub just a foot away. Her sexy swaying bottom, with half of each cheek exposed, belied the fledgling innocence of her roundness. I waited two minutes in the pool before joining her in the hot tub. She watched silently, stealing glimpses at my bulging crotch as I slowly rose out of the pool, squeezing my hair and ignoring the heavy suit barely clinging to my hips. Standing over her, I caught her looking up my loose legging at my free-floating manhood. When I stepped into the hot tub, I was careful to let my leg slide along her outstretched arm. I heard her sigh. The tease can be so delicious.
I sank to the bottom for a minute before popping up while sucking in my belly. Holding onto one side of the hot tub, I pulled my body to the surface without adjusting the loose suit. My hips, and dick, were a foot from her face. When she turned the jets up, I rotated so some of the bubbles ran over my abs and caused the loose suit to billow. The aeration probably prevented her from seeing past the waist inside the suit, but the flapping waist was baiting her to an aroused interest. The hot water encouraged my erection and I made sure she couldn't miss it. My wife would be sooooo proud!
Her arms were still on the tub sides as she "ignored" me. The way she stretched caused her adolescent right tit to escape again. Maybe she didn't notice, or maybe just because we were alone, she left it exposed for me. My dick pushed harder against my suit. Her pretty pink nipple puckered tightly right after I locked my eyes on it. When I sat next to her, she dropped her right arm into the water and rested it against my leg. Her touch sent a chill up my body. Her exposed breast, still above the water line, took on a more natural and appealing shape; I licked my lips, anticipating how it would taste and feel. "Mireille, I must ask, is it common practice chez toi to leave a breast exposed like this in public?" I lifted her tit and ran my thumb lightly over her nipple. "Do people take advantage of its appeal and caress it uninvited; or is its exposure considered an invitation to touch and taste it, like this?" I licked my lips.