My Modest Wife the Exhibitionist

Hello. I am Alicia, from my husband's stories "My Modest Wife, the Exhibitionist (Parts 1 through 4).

I was a bit peeved at him, at first, for posting those stories, because he only told me about it afterward. But upon reflection, I rather like being introduced to you through his eyes, so now I will elaborate about my true nature.

I am not so modest as he suggests.

Please excuse me; I'm hardly the writer he is, but here is my story.

Yes, I am modest in the sense that here in America, I have felt uncomfortable until recently exhibiting myself the way some girls do. So I had refused for a few years to sunbathe naked on the beach or do other things my hubby asks me to do (like ride in our car with my breasts naked).

But growing up in England, I was hardly prudish, and I had many exhibitionist fantasies and several experiences. (I think we Brits are less sexually repressed than you Americans, actually.)

And, I am sure my husband will be quite surprised (and excited) by the following story, which happened when I was still in school. And the only way he is going to find out about it is by reading it on Literotica, since I have taken over his account to post this story, which I'll call "Part 5).

Don't worry, I didn't hack his account. He gave me the password months ago, hoping, I'm sure, that I would do just this. I think we are probably pushing our relationship into risky grounds, not so much by publishing the stories but by actually doing the things we describe in them.

As of this point I haven't actually had sex with anyone other than him, but there have been some close calls, and I'm trying to figure out how I feel about that possibility.

Mainly, to be honest, it scares me. But it also definitely excites me. I fantasize about it on a regular basis now.

I think relationships are about control on some levels, and Davey and I are certainly experimenting with control issues here. Today, I've taken over his account in order to tell a bit of my story. If it works (if you like it) there will be much more, I promise.

As I get ready to write the following words, I should describe where I am. I'm on a weekend retreat with others from a non-profit where I volunteer. We are in this lovely guesthouse overlooking the ocean.

I'm in my private room and I am wearing only a T-shirt. That's all. I'm sitting at a desk by the window. Anyone outside can see me from the neck up but nothing else. My "bottom" as Davey calls it, or "bum" as I call it, is naked on the pillow I've placed on this chair as I type this story.

I'm already feeling rather wicked, even before starting. I've never written a naughty story before. And I've never told my husband what a bad, bad girl I was long before he met me.

But now he is re-awakening my base instincts, I hope he will realize that he has triggered memories I thought I'd successfully suppressed. And now they are re-surfacing, I'm not sure what the outcome will be.

Maybe that is what is scaring and exciting me most. I do not know where this is all going. I think it is about losing control. It's rare for us to be apart on weekends, which given that we both have jobs is when most of our beach and river adventures have occurred. I know Davey is at a beach near here today, even as I type, and I can guess what he is doing.

He loves to hike next to the ocean -- any ocean. We've been on four continents together and three different tropical islands. I've never seen him happier than when at the beach, and it isn't only about sex or voyeurism.

It's who he is.

But part of who he is is a man who needs to be seen, literally. He needs to be known and to know that he matters. And I'm just like him but I am a woman. And we all know that everyone looks at women -- men and women -- but far fewer actually care to look at men.

I don't mind looking at men, but the first thing I look at is not their bodies but their faces -- their eyes, their mouths, their expressions. I'm not a very big woman and big men scare me in equal parts as they also excite me. This may be something that Davey has not figured out yet.

Okay, on to my story and then I'll come back into the present tense to wrap this up.

***

I'd been raised in a rather strict manner to always behave in a prim and proper way. I was to go to school with my uniform carefully ironed, for example. Often, on the train, I felt men's eyes on me -- although British men tend to be far less direct than American men, if I may say so.

Some days, as I got older and my body became more developed, I yielded to the temptation to imagine what these strangers on the train would think of me had they known I had no knickers on.

That's right. I rode to school with my bum naked, underneath that short plaid skirt. The first few times I tried this, nothing happened, but then one day something did happen. And this is the story my husband will only find out about when he reads it on Literotica.

My parents both worked. When I left home and got on the train, I was completely naked and free underneath my skirt. I knew that my long smooth legs were pretty and that men often snuck a peek at them.

This day I was feeling risqué, growing into my own as a young woman. I wanted to test my power over men. I wanted to feel sexy.

On the train, I boldly walked to the back of the car, where fewer girls and women were, and positioned myself between a number of guys. I think I probably was pushing my bum out as I braced myself on the bar overhead. I wanted to be touched.

In any event, I soon felt a stranger's hands touching my bare legs from behind, ever so gently. I just let him continue, giving in to the sensation of being stroked in that manner. I know this was dodgy behavior of me. I know I was being a bad girl.

But please read on.

As I stood there, the man's hands slowly worked their way up to my bare bum. He caressed each cheek, lovingly I thought, in a way that turned me on as I'd never before been turned on. He was very gentle.

Soon the man's hands and finger soon moved around to my swollen pussy, which he rubbed and penetrated with such skill, I felt lucky to have such a skilled touch-lover.

I came on this unknown man's hand. It was the first orgasm I ever had besides those I had given myself.

Soon after, at my usual stop, I got off and walked to school. Behind a tree, I pulled my knickers back on.

But later, in the loo, I pulled them down again and worked myself off.

***

Okay, now I've told the story, I wonder whether I should post this? I've stripped off my T-shirt and am sitting here naked in front of the window, only none of my colleagues can see me because I am blocked by the computer, and I am so slim I fit within its frame.

But my pussy is very wet and my nipples are hard. I am touching myself. If I publish this story, you will all know my secret, or at least one of my secrets.

Oh God. There is the guy I am really fantasizing about. He is such a big man, very tall and strong -- the executive director of this non-profit. He is wearing a T-shirt and shorts and he has long legs. Nice legs. My fantasy is to be spanked by him.

Oops. He sees me. He is waving to me to come out and join the group. They are about to go for a hike along the beach. I think I'm going to stand up and wave back. When I do he will see my naked breasts. Okay here I go.

Oh God, this feels wicked. I'm about to cross a new threshold.

I love the look in his eyes as I wave and then glance down, pretending to be surprised that he has seen me naked. I quickly cover up and turn around and disappear from his view.

Now I have flashed him, I quickly don a pair of shorts and a tank top and flip-flops. It's time to hit the beach!