Becci thought back to the shy and insecure girl she was in high school, desperately eager to please and be accepted. She was so unsure of herself, both socially and physically. Most of the other girls developed more quickly than her. Immature bullies among them sensed her vulnerability and tortured her with cruel taunts. Outwardly she seemed innocent and reticent; they would have been shocked by the secret erotic fantasies she found solace within.
In college she learnt that she was desirable, perhaps very desirable, but she constantly needed to prove and reprove that fact to herself. She indulged in a series of one night stands, often favouring tourists and married men that she met in clubs and figured she was unlikely to meet again. Her few love affairs with fellow students were always sexually charged, but never lasted.
Becci excused her behaviour as simply making up for lost time. By the time she realised that she had gained a reputation, it was too late to turn back the clock. She gradually acquired an inner strength, and the ability to portray confidence in difficult situations. Within just a couple of years of graduating she had met Paul and became his fiancée and was now his wife.
Becci still blamed her difficult adolescence for almost every subsequent indiscretion, and still retreated into the erotic fantasies she had found so comforting in high school. However, she was increasingly willing to share and embrace them with Paul, but initially only secretively whilst abroad.
On vacation in Atlantic City, she had gone much further than she planned and felt liberated. Performing her carefully practiced striptease on stage in front of so many was exhilarating! This was an enactment of a teenage fantasy, although the original and its many variants did not include a husband watching in the audience.
Winning the $500 first prize on stage and earning more than twice that again on the floor provided the self-validation she still craved. She had broken the club rules and even more taboos by secretly taking her eager punters to completion during intimate lap dances, and found this even more thrilling than winning the contest.
The last shackles to the moral restraints imposed by her catholic schooling and conservative family and friends were broken. She had always been terrified of what others thought about her, but now she could barely care less, except for Paul. She imagined herself as an exotic butterfly emerging from the confines of its chrysalis. No longer hiding in the shadows uncertain and afraid, her beauty and passion were now displayed in their full glory.
Soon after returning home from the States Paul left to attend a five-day conference. Every evening without fail he called Becci on FaceTime. It never took him long to ask her to show him what she was wearing. On command she stripped for him, starting with her dress and posing for him in carefully selected lingerie, then slowly removing that as well.
She was surprised by how much this excited her, and she teased Paul by pinching her engorged nipples and sliding her fingers along her glistening pink slit into her vagina, then spreading her secretions over her clitoris. She loved making him hard. Becci provided the backtrack telling him what she imagined he was doing to her and how she felt.
She set the bar high on the first night, "You just pinned me down, naked and legs splayed open on the bed... You are devouring me, your tongue is inside me, your hands squeezing by little tits... Ahh, oh my, my sweet, sweet boy... Now you are working up my body... Oh God I need your hard throbbing cock inside me! ... I scream, 'Pp-lease! Fuck me, fuck me properly you Bastard!'... F-finally you slam into me... Filling my achingly empty vagina... Hard and to the hilt in one powerful lunge! You just keep thrusting into me... Faster and faster... I, I'm just your dirty little slut... Your fuckbunny... Ahh, ah, ha!"
Becci was soon vigorously frigging her clit, but didn't take her eyes off her phone. She could tell Paul was close to cumming, "Your whole body tenses, your potent semen is pumping into me, flooding my womb... You pull your spurting penis out of me and pull me down the bed... It's between my lips! Ahh, the warmth of your gorgeous cock in my mouth, still so very hard and twitching. The taste of your salty nectar!"
Her nipples were engorged, her breasts felt a little fuller, her cheeks, neck and chest flushed. She withdrew her fingers from her soaking pussy and brought them to her lips. Breathless, she whispered, "Tell me, tell me that you love me, that I'm a good girl!"
On the last two nights Becci agreed to only edge, but not to cum. She came so very close, but obeyed Paul's bidding and held back at the final moment. For a girl in need of frequent servicing, this proved a strain. Frustrated erotic fantasies increasingly intruded on her waking thoughts.
She picked Paul up from the airport wearing only heels, sheer stockings and a mid-length coat. Just two buttons and a belt preserved her modesty. With each stride she flashed her slender legs up to and even beyond the 'asking for it' line, the lace tops of her stockings. Some of Paul's friends and colleagues had been on the same flight, and all eyes were on her. Most of the men and some women were captivated, no doubt hoping that she would flash more flesh, but she also sensed disapproval and scorn from a few.
