My gorgeous, young wife has always been somewhat of an exhibitionist, even when she was just an innocent tease and her slutty side had not yet been brought out. I enjoy letting her show herself off in public, and I like seeing other guys enjoying the sight of her.
Inspired by another story on this Web site, I set up a screensaver for my desktop PC, which has a 35-inch monitor in my home office: an automatic slideshow of a collection of intimate photos of my wife, mostly in erotic lingerie and swimsuits but also some fully revealing but tasteful nudes and a few in risqué clubwear, all braless and pantyless and some see-through. These included a particularly revealing outfit that she has worn before to tease guys: a tight, very short, ridiculously see-through dress of soft, sheer fabric, while wearing
nothing
on underneath it. To wear that dress appropriately for showing off, she has always arranged for her whole body to be waxed porcelain-smooth. Then the dress clings tightly around her 34C breasts and shows off her nice thigh gap which reveals her tight, smooth pussy. Her long legs are fully on display below the short hemline.
Perfect for such tight tops and dresses is that my wife has fantastic, sensitive nipples like pencil-erasers when she's stimulated. Check them out for yourself: circle her nipples with your fingertips; she'll respond like you're about to make her orgasm. The next time anyone comments on her nipples to us, I'm going to make them that invitation. (My wife thinks I'm teasing her about that, but she hasn't said no. I'm not teasing.) Her nipples don't even need personal contact: they'll get aroused if she wears thin tops in cold weather; loose tops or dresses if they rub along her nipples; or even if she's just horny from anticipation if she's intentionally teasing someone.
For my job, I recently composed and needed to practice (dry-run) a couple of briefings that I would need to present to an important audience. Four of my male colleagues volunteered to help me with that task, although I could not finish the presentations in order to dry-run them until the Saturday afternoon before the briefing. I offered to hold the dry runs in my home office, and I informed my colleagues that my wife would serve as our hostess while we five guys discussed my draft presentations. These guys have met my wife a couple of times before at social functions for work: a small cocktail party hosted at my supervisor's house and a department picnic, at which she wore a little black dress and a loose sundress, respectively, braless on both occasions. I think my wife is generally recognized as the hottest girl, including wives and girlfriends, in our department, so I think my colleagues were glad for another opportunity to see her again, especially in a smaller, private venue. I knew my wife would want to show herself off for our visitors that day.
Also, my wife was watching a house for friends of ours who were on vacation for the whole summer. She had mentioned to me that it looked like their yard needed some work and asked me if I would do that or if she should call someone to do it. I suggested the neighborhood teens who have occasionally stopped at our house asking if we had yard work for them, so I told my wife I would have them come by if I saw them. When I recently saw them working on a neighbor's yard, I suggested that they should come by our house on Saturday afternoon about 12:30, as my wife might have a job for them.
That Saturday, before my colleagues were due at 1:00, while I was in my office going over my presentations to be dry-run—but with a clear view of the front door and living room through the open door of the office—the doorbell rang at 12:30. The two boys did indeed show up, and it was fantastic to see my wife answer the door and greet them wearing the see-though dress, showing off her hot curvy body. She was also wearing a necklace, a watch, a bracelet, and some sexy shoes, so she clearly looked dressed up and not like she was walking around in lingerie. (Imagine a top model in a
Playboy
"scenario" pictorial, like ones the boys had probably seen before, but now they were part of it!) And of course, they may well have seen more skin shown by girls in bikinis on beaches.
She invited the boys in, offered them seats in our living room, and offered them drinks which they declined. The boys could see me in the office with a clear view of them and my wife, and since I offered no objection to what I was seeing, they took their seats. I tried to appear focused on my work while discreetly enjoying the interaction between my outrageously hot wife and the teenage boys trying hard to pay attention to the conversation on which their employment depended. I suspect that the boys wished, in hindsight, that they had accepted the drinks to provide some concealment of what they might have considered embarrassing but which most likely pleased my tease of a wife.
My wife asked them about their capabilities to do yard work, and she seemed satisfied with their answers. Her inquiry then went off on an interesting tangent. She asked the boys how old they were, they clarified that they were both 16, and then my wife pointed out her observation, "So, guys, our friends live right on the other side of State Line Road in Oak Grove. Interesting thing about State Line Road: did you know that here in Tennessee, the age of consent is 18, but just across the street in Kentucky, it's only 16? I've always found that fascinating about how local laws can work. So can you guys meet me at their house next Saturday morning, and I'll show you what needs to be done?" The guys quickly, gratefully accepted her offer, and I can only imagine what they had in mind that they would be asked to do that day. They left our house then, trying inconspicuously to hold their hands down in front of themselves.
Now this report is about the rest of that day with my colleagues. With my monitor turned outward from the desk into the office, I set up some chairs out on the floor so my colleagues could watch my presentations like a typical audience, albeit directly on the monitor and not projected. When the guys showed up, I directed them to my office and told them I'd be back after I let my wife know that we'd be starting our work soon and asking for her hostess services, at least by bringing us drinks. I knew my wife was last-minute primping in our bedroom, next-door to the office. From the hallway, I could soon hear one of the guys asking the others, "Isn't that his wife?"
Another one asked, "Do you think he knows this is showing?" He was certainly referring to the slideshow of my wife's photos that I had left running on my monitor.
