My Wife The Exibitionist

Brenda, my wife of eight years, is an exhibitionist. You either love her or hate her. I love her, and I hate her. We live in a large West Coast city so it isn’t as bad as it might be in a small town where everyone knows everyone’s business. Could you imagine Brenda in Podunk? I can’t! .

I own my own business, hardware, and Brenda doesn’t need to work. But she likes to keep busy so she works three days a week as a bookkeeper for a cleaner’s here in town. I’d really rather she’d stay home, out of harm’s way so to speak. I’d have a lot less trouble if she did.

You know, of course, that Brenda wears, shall we say, revealing clothing?

At any rate, this is a story she told to me, and I tell it to you just as she told it to me, with comment.

“You know, Charlie, how the boss at the cleaners is always kidding me?”

I knew the boss. He’s a crack up. And I knew my wife too. I nod.

“Well,” she continued, “he made this glass booth kind of office, right behind the counter where all the customers turn in their laundry. Well, he says to me, when I went in this morning, that this office is for me. He wants me to work in this office now. I couldn’t believe he’d do that for me.”

You get that? For me, not “to” me.

“So I say, what the hell. Why not. Sounds like a bit of distraction for his customers but that’s not my problem, right.”

I nod again. Sam Twang, her boss, thinks he’s funny. My wife is his perfect ploy, as well as mine of course. You have to understand, there are all kinds of exhibitionists. My Brenda may be a slight exception to the norm, but if so, not much. Her face isn’t so much, but her body. Man, what a body. I found out soon after I started going with her that you don’t pay a lot of attention to her face when you’re looking at her you know what, right? Well, she loves her body and so does everyone else, including yours truly. She is known for her braless, see through blouses, and her pantiless behind. Combine this with 4" heels and short skirts and you’ve got the picture. It isn’t that her face is terrible or anything, it’s just compared to that body it doesn’t stand a chance.

”So, then I notice,” she continued, “I notice he’s elevated the room, so that it’s higher than the floor outside So I say, distraction, distraction, and so I start working, keeping my legs together so nobody can see nothing. Everybody is staring at me over the shoulder of the girls who take in the cleaning and laundry, I know this, but, you know, I get busy, and I forget, and the next thing I know I’ve relaxed my legs, concentrating, you know? I look up and realize that he’s, that dirty old man, is showing off my pussy to all those customers. Men and women alike. My God, I had a woman throw me a kiss today.”

I laughed with her. I could picture it, my wife on display to all comers, That’s what she likes, isn’t it?

“So, I say to him, Sammy, these people can see my everything if I continue to sit at this desk to do my work.” You know what he says to me,” she smiles at me, as she scratches her leg. “He says to me, to keep my legs together when I’m working.”

She squealed in laughter. I joined her.

“Can you imagine it, sitting with your legs together for four hours at a time? He’s such a dirty old man.”

I inquired, “he doesn’t make passes at you does he?”

“Oh, no,” she responds, “not what you’d think. He’s much too sly for that. Just little things he says or does that lets me know he likes to look at my body, you know?”

“What’s he look like, I’ve never met him.”

“Come down some time, I’ll introduce him to you. You’ll see. Dirty old man.” She thinks a minute, “I don’t know, dark, straight hair, my height,” she’s five foot, six inches, “Kinda Oriental I guess. A sallow complexion..”

“Well,” I interjected, “he is Oriental, isn’t he?

She smiled at me, “Smart ass! Yeah, he’s Oriental all right.”

“So is he big anywhere at all?”

She blushed, “how should I know? He’s not an exhibitionist. Just a pervert, that’s all. I haven’t had his pants off him.

She rises, “I’m gonna take a shower bath now. You going to make dinner, or have delivered?”

I’m the cook in our family, “Pasta tonight, Sweetheart.”

She kissed me. “I love your pasta, big guy,” she said as she turned and ran up the stairs, pulling off the few clothes she wears as she goes. I watched the glisten of her labia as she ran up the stairs.

Before putting dinner on the table, I trot upstairs to see her progress. I could hear the shower still running in the bath. I opened the door. Our shower is glassed in, and well lit. Brenda was masturbating with a huge soapy dildo in the shower with the water running over her body, tingling her skin. I watched her have an orgasm as I removed my cock and masturbated quickly in the toilet bowl.

After a moment, I walked downstairs again and waited. I hadn’t flushed the toilet bowl. The globs of semen would still be floating in it when she finishes. She’d know what I’d done. We’d both have small, secretive smiles on our faces as we eat dinneer tonight.