Sharing Sara My Exhibitionist Wife Ch 05

Thanks to Amber T for editing.

In the early afternoon Rod called us with advice for his party. It would start about four with cocktails on the lawn, then a buffet, entertainment of an unspecified kind, and then, he promised, 'what you'd expect as a swinger's party.' He recommended something for Sara that would cover everything, but still be sexy and leave her 'accessible.' That sounded good to me, and to her.

I had just made coffee when Sara swirled downstairs in a white dress with a blue flower pattern, sleeveless with ruffled edges to all the seams. She was naked underneath. The skirt seemed uncharacteristically modest, just below the knee, but when she twirled for me I saw how thin and filmy the fabric was. It was held together in front only by a tie; she showed me how she could adjust the V-neck as low as she liked by redoing the tie. The V-neck was matched by a V-hem on the skirt, opening it up in front where it counts. I had her open it until the V reached her navel, and pushed the filmy fabric aside to reveal her bountiful breasts. Her nipples were already stiff. We had our coffee with them exposed. I mentioned that a lot of guys would be looking at her bare tits tonight. She replied, "I can't wait. You know how I love to expose myself, and tease and flirt."

"You'll do a lot more than that. I have a feeling that a lot of guys are going to fondle those tits, scratch your nipples, suck on them, then untie your dress and do wonderful things to your pussy."

Sara tucked her feet under her chair and leaned forward. "You're gonna watch me get fucked again, aren't you?"

"Yep." I grabbed a nipple in each hand and twisted; Sara gasped.

"If you don't stop, we'll never get to Rod's." Reluctantly I let go, and we set off.

In the car Sara turned serious. "Jim, we have to talk about something. So far our adventures have all involved me - exposing myself, getting fondled, sucking other guys' cocks, taking a bunch of them in my pussy. I'm high just thinking about it. But tonight it'll be your turn. I'm sure there'll be women there like me, who'll flirt and flaunt, who'll want to get that wonderful cock of yours inside them."

"Obviously I'm looking forward to that. But when it comes down to it, how do you feel about me doing other women, being unfaithful?"

"I guess I can't object, after what I've been doing, I've been such a total slut. But really, Jim, I want you to enjoy sex, even with other women. Unfaithful means doing things your partner doesn't want you to do. I'll get to experience you making love up close, the way you've been experiencing me. Remember I love you, I want you to be happy and squeeze as much joy out of life as you can. You can have other women, but it's better if I'm there and I can watch you enjoy them, even participate in the whole experience. I don't want you falling in love with anybody else..."

"I think that's the way Rod has it set up for tonight. No sneaking off, he said, everything you do is in the open and in front of everybody."

"Jim - up to now I've only been with guys I knew, at least a little bit. Tonight there will be strangers, people I've never met until today, and I'll expose myself to them, I'll let them fondle me in front of everyone, they'll fuck me, I know it. It's like walking up to some guy and saying 'Hi, I'm Sara, let's fuck.' It's so much more brazen, I'll be naked with some guy I barely know churning inside me and lots of strangers watching. I'll be a sex object on display. God, I'm soaked already."

"What's it like, fucking guys you aren't in love with?"

"Um, it's different, not like doing it with you, it's not making love. It's more about the raw feel of sex, the sensations, like a drug but better. You'll see when you do it tonight."

I drove on, one hand on the wheel and the other on Sara's soft thigh. Rod's house looked like an ordinary suburban place, set a little further back from the street but nothing out of the ordinary. A pimply-faced kid came up, took our car keys, gave us a card with a phone number and drove off. Either Rod had valet parking or our car was just stolen. But no matter, we had other things on our minds. Rod greeted us at the door, probably the only person we would know at the party. "Come on in! I owe you both after what I've been doing with Sara."

Sara gave her fuckbuddy a big kiss and he diverted us to his huge kitchen, where we met his wife Kirsten. She seemed quite a bit younger than him, a tall statuesque Scandinavian with a cute upturned nose, straight blond hair and a svelte figure. The surprise was what she was wearing, just a little vest of sheer almost transparent material, unbuttoned, and a skirt reminiscent of a tennis skirt but riding low on her hips and reaching barely below her crotch. Below, long slim legs stretched on forever. She saw us gawking and explained with a lilting accent that the guests had to cover up, at least at first, but the hostess could take some liberties. She said that she's a hopeless exhibitionist anyway, so today was a good day. They met when she came from Sweden to work in Rod's software firm, because she was impressed with the originality and challenge of his designs, but eventually another kind of software had greater appeal.

"Kirsten, dear, I've found that Jim is a tit fan. Go ahead and show him yours."

Even though I knew that sex was the theme of Rod's little gathering, I was surprised when she pulled back her vest and thrust out her chest toward me, small perky breasts with impossibly wide nipples already erect. "She gets off on exposing herself to strangers. Look, her tits are stiff already. Go ahead, Jim, touch them, fondle, suck."

I exploited Kirsten's offer of her breasts and Rod's invitation. Sara stared at those nipples, moving up beside us to get a good look; Rod came up behind her and began squeezing her breasts through her thin dress. Rod pointed out that in some ways Kirsten is a lot like Sara.

I had no inhibitions. I sucked one stiff nipple into my mouth while I pinched the other between my fingers and pulled hard. Kirsten was getting more and more excited; folding her hands behind her head and pulling her shoulders back, she squealed, "Rod, look what he's doing to me. I just met him, and he's working wonders on my nipples. I can feel his soft lips, his hard teeth, his tongue moving on the tip. He's so strong and confident. Aah, it's so tingly, I'm getting soaked..."

Rod reluctantly said that we should stop before things went too far - he had just wanted to show us how open Kirsten was with her sexuality. He matter-of-factly mentioned that I could fuck her later. So I gave the other nipple a nice wet kiss and withdrew, leaving her breathless and her nipples glowing. As a new pair of guests came through the door, Rod asked Kirsten to show us around and excused himself.

Sara was impressed. "You were so free with your tits, I loved the way you described what Jim was doing to you, I've never heard anything like that before. But I know what that's like, I love it when he does that to me."

"Rod likes me to describe what's happening to me, especially if it's with another man. I like it because it adds a dimension to the sex play, maybe like an announcer for a ball game on TV. Puts it right out front, no pun intended."

Kirsten took full advantage of her privileges as hostess. She lifted her little skirt, showing us her prominent, shaved pussy, and asked me to cup it for her as we walked. She felt marvelous as she showed us their house, really a compound that opened up to a patio and a broad lawn in the back. There was a magnificent view of the town below, then down some stairs was another level with a marble-lined pool, surrounded by guest houses and changing rooms. The house had a whole lower level hidden from the front, with a big party room opening onto the patio. My finger found its way into a warm, tight tunnel.

The day was unseasonably warm, guests enjoying the lawn and the fresh air. Kirsten left us to get acquainted with the two dozen or so of them, not a huge crowd but enough to have some variety. My hand reluctantly said goodby to her tunnel - they had been getting along wonderfully. She reminded us that these were not ordinary people, they were hand-picked for their sexual openness and appetites. We could just walk up and say things that normally would be offensive, such as a comment on a woman's breasts or a man's equipment. Approaching strangers this way would give an extra sexual jolt. The women's dress made good conversation pieces, and entries to discussions of sex and sexual preferences.

My memories of the next hour or so are a swarm of unconnected encounters. I picked out a couple about our age; we introduced ourselves to a tall guy wearing just a pair of khaki shorts and his striking brunette wife with a lovely purple skirt that began just below her breasts, a band of lace cupping them and tying behind her neck. Her short stature and the high waist of her dress made her huge breasts seem even larger. The lace was so open and sheer that her nipples were visible - that's what attracted my attention. I said, "Hi, I couldn't help noticing your nice heavy boobs, but I can see your nipples through that dress. Aren't you bending the rules a bit?"

She turned to show me a profile, and exclaimed, "Oh, you naughty man, you're looking at my tits, and we just met. Rules are made to be bent, aren't they? I kind of enjoy teasing men with my tits, I know that's not normal, but we both like it. My breasts are so big, men kind of go nuts over them anyway. Oh, I'm Ruth, this is Sven. We're having the time of our lives with all this dirty talk."

With that she turned and backed right into me, while Sven lifted my hands to her boobs. I didn't expect that, it happened so fast they must have done this before. But her boobs were deliciously soft and heavy as I lifted and probed. Sara caught on fast - she backed into Sven and lifted his hands to her own boobs. After a few good squeezes Sara guided his hand inside her dress, so I did the same with Ruth's lace. She didn't object. Sven pointed out that each of us was watching while we fondled the other guy's wife, and how glad they both were to be able to enjoy arousal so freely. Suddenly Sara bent over a little and got wide-eyed: "Jim - this guy is huge!" She had obviously been exploring his crotch while he felt her breasts.

Ruth studied Sara for a minute, then asked in a quiet but determined voice, "Would you like Sven to fuck you later?"

There it was. Sara did a double-take, then quickly replied that she would. Ruth leaned back and whispered in my ear, "That means you can fuck me too. I know I'm being frank and forward, that's part of the fun. I'd love it, I'd want you to do my breasts like you're doing now while you're inside me. But you won't own me, I'm only satisfied if several guys do me in one night. Hope you don't mind."

I didn't mind. We moved on, encountering a woman who looked perfectly normal from the front, in a rather conservative red velvet dress that extended from her calves to her neck, sleeveless and close-fitting. But when she turned I was surprised that the dress had no back. A ribbon around her neck held up the top, one at her waist pulled the middle tight, and one just below her ass restrained the skirt. She was talking with two guys who moved closer and squeezed her firm round bottom. We moved on.

Most of the guests, men and women, wore more-or-less normal clothing, though with an emphasis on the 'less'. One exception was a young girl with long, straight black hair, and her lanky consort who looked to be dressed as native Americans. Moving closer, we saw that their breechcloths were nothing but ordinary towels held up by ordinary belts. We asked them about their very brief attire, and the girl gushed, "We have, like, no money, but we really wanted to come here, for all the sex. So Jason found these towels at his mom's, and we used belts, and that was it. Oh, I'm Jennifer, everybody calls me Jen, how are you?"

Jason's breechcloth was done in the traditional fashion, one long towel stretching under the crotch and hanging over the belt front and back far enough to hold it on. That's all he wore. I was more interested in Jen's tantalizing outfit and the body beneath it. Her improvised top was a belt above her breasts, and two washcloths with a vaguely Navajo pattern folded over it in the right places. I told Jen that her top was dangerous, she'd be flashing her tits if she leaned over. "I know", she said. "Look."

Jen turned to one side and leaned over, revealing perfect breasts with protruding pink nipples shaped like half-golf-balls. She shivered to make them wobble tantalizingly. Then she showed me that her breechcloth didn't go through her crotch; it was two separate cloths, front and back. She demonstrated how lifting up the front one exposed her pussy. "I love this outfit, it lets me, like, flash everything. I like to show lots of skin. Do you like my little pussy? It's so exciting to show you."

Jen was moving her hips in subtle undulations, showing me (and two other guys behind us) her fucking muscles. I admired her candor as much as her body.

We were interrupted by a loud announcement that dinner was ready, served buffet style. As Sara and I got in line behind our young friends, a slim girl in a schoolgirl outfit slid in behind us. I commented on the schoolgirl fetish, and the young thing gushed, "Oh, this isn't an act. We really ARE schoolgirls - we're from Our Lady of Perpetual Guilt Catholic High School. We're really blown away by this party so far, SO much SCANDalous behavior."

The outgoing young lady, Mary, introduced another girl, their equally young boyfriends, and an older couple who were serving as 'chaperones'.

"This is Angela Benecorpo, and Joey, and John Goodcock. Can you believe it? They're from the boys' high school, Our Lady of Perfect Chastity. And these are my lay teachers, Miss Thompson and Mr. McFadden. They got us in here. You know why they call them LAY teachers? Because they can get LAID!"

"Well, young lady, your outfit doesn't look like something the school would approve of. You look like you want to get laid yourself."

"Oo! You LIKE it? Ok, I confess, we modified our uniforms last night. We wanted to show more skin, to get ready, you know? I cut off most of my skirt, and look, there's a slit ALL the way up the side. Isn't that WICKed?"

She showed me a bare hip. I pointed out that the slit was in the wrong place, and took the liberty of turning her skirt, riding low on her hips, so that the slit was directly in front. Her skin was cool and smooth. "See, Mary, if you stand quite still everything looks normal, but if you wiggle the slightest bit everyone will see your pussy."

"Oh, you are SO WICKed! I LOVE it! I'm going to wiggle a LOT. My pussy lips are so BIG, they stick out, I usually have to wear loose clothes to hide them. But not here! But I haven't shown you the BEST part. Look, there's a pocket on each side of my blouse. Reach inside."

She thrust her chest forward enthusiastically. I took the bait, and met bare skin behind the pockets; then my fingers found warm, stiff nipples. "Mary! You were planning on letting guys fondle your little tits, weren't you?"

"We cut the holes in my blouse last night. Isn't it clever, and SCANDalous?" Then, closer and quieter, "Do you like my boobs? I know they're small, but they're SUPER-sensitive, I got turned on when you touched them."

"Don't worry, your boobs are great, it's proportion that counts, not just size. I'm sure they'll get a lot of action tonight. And look what your boobs did to my crotch."

Everybody giggled. I found that Angela didn't know that her name meant angel goodbody. That got more giggles. She was wearing her severely cut, unmodified school blouse, but unbuttoned, no bra. She showed me how she could expose her pert tits just by leaning over. Their lay teachers explained how they had discovered the students' sexual needs, very cautiously at first. The ones who came here were seniors, the ones who had already turned 18.

The buffet was generous, and of course of the best quality. Sara and I sat on the grass with the Catholics, the girls sitting tailor-seat so that we could all see their pussies. They thought that deliciously wicked. For them all the rules come from the outside, so as soon as those rules are loosened, anything goes.

After dinner we got a glimpse of Kirsten, now naked, but still graceful and poised. Suddenly a piercing police whistle got everyone's attention, as a man in a police uniform roughly led Kirsten up to a little raised area of the patio. He held her elbows behind her back, forcing her breasts forward for everyone to see. The crowd fell silent. A large man in a judge's robe appeared, and a bench was placed in front of him. He bellowed, "Order in the court! Big beautiful bouncing boobed bailiff, who stands accused?"

A short, heavy blonde appeared from behind the bench, in a police uniform except that her lapels were wide open, pushing together a large set of naked bouncing boobs, quivering with each step. "Your honor", she announced, "This woman stands accused of indecent exposure and petting in public."

The judge demanded, "How do you plead?"

As Kirsten stammered, a man with a briefcase rushed up behind her. We recognized Rod, who asserted "Not guilty, your honor."

The judge, sitting behind his bench that was nothing more than an ordinary patio-furniture bench, queried "And what is your defense?"

Kirsten's 'lawyer' responded that, well, she wasn't really naked at the time she was 'arrested'. There was a man sucking on each of her breasts, and someone had his fingers all over her pussy, so they weren't really exposed. So there was no exposure, and she wasn't doing the petting; they were petting her.

The judge seemed unmoved. "I'll have to examine the evidence. Big beautiful bouncing boobed bailiff, approach the bench and prepare my nightstick."

The bailiff sat on the judge's bench as he stood, opening his robe to reveal a large semi-erect penis. Without hesitation she took it in her hands as though this were an everyday courtroom event, expertly squeezing it before taking it into her mouth. The judge fondled the big beautiful bouncing boobed bailiff's boobs, repeatedly lifting them by the nipples and releasing them to jiggle back into place.

The defendant objected, "Your honor, isn't this highly irregular, exposing yourself before the court?"

The judge replied, "Madam defendant, it is essential that I probe your evidence with my formidable nightstick. You have some nerve to object to exposure - look at you, you're completely naked."

The policeman turned the helpless Kirsten around, arms still pinned behind her back, to make the point. Now ready, the judge demanded that she approach the bench. She really was lovely. The bailiff and policeman sat her straddling the bench, her open genitals facing the audience. Pitifully she objected, "But your honor, this is nothing but an ordinary picnic bench. And they're opening up my, um, genital region, everyone here can see."

"You should have thought of that when you came out here naked, you shameless slut. The witnesses must witness the court procedure. A trial's not a proper trial without witnesses." He gestured toward the crowd.

With that the judge stood straddling his cowering defendant, his robe held at his waist and his large red-knobbed nightstick pointing at her exposed pussy. The defendant moaned in a most undefendantlike way as the honorable judge grunted and slowly lowered himself into her, leaning forward so that all the witnesses could observe his nightstick entering her evidence. As he began pumping, the defense lawyer cleared his throat. Kirsten, expecting to be rescued, looked to him, but he looked instead to the judge.