Summer had come around again and I was back to wearing my mini skirts and flashing quite often while with my husband at the local park.
It is difficult to explain or describe the exhilaration that I felt each time that I showed my panties off, either by accident (on purpose) having my skirt get caught on branches or park benches causing it to rise above my panties or summer shorts that would inadvertently slide down my legs while simply walking down a path.
I found myself getting bolder and bolder with my exposure.
I also enjoyed picking out and purchasing teeny panties in all kinds of colors and patterns. It only seemed logical to me that if I was spending the time to decide what panties to wear, then why not show them off. Also, this was a great argument to rationalize my exhibitionist tendencies.
What do other woman think about as they pick out matching bras and panties in delectable colors? Are they only to be seen by them? Or is there a latent desire to have someone else see them undressed?
It seems that I had already figured these questions out and was acting on my responses and impulses.
I was becoming more and more proficient at using my husband's squirt gun to mark our territory in a manner of speaking. I enjoyed the risk of exposing my husband outdoors and causing him to ejaculate in the park.
We once went to an outdoor botanical garden and I took his hand and led him off of the path where we laid down in the tall grass only 30 feet from other people enjoying the flowers.
I slipped my shorts off reveling a bright yellow pair of bikini panties and was quite happy with his physical reaction as I undid his pants pulling them down to his knees and proceeded to add a different kind of fertilizer to the vegetation with people only yards from us, but unable to see us because of the tall grass.
I was starting to take my sexual rebellion and exhibitionist tendencies to extremes.
A couple of times we played with each other while in the basement of my house with my family just a staircase away.
Each time I would enthusiastically cause my husband to explode either into my other hand or I would hold his love handle (A new use for the term) up against my stomach and feel his convulsions and warm liquid pulse onto my bare skin.