My wife, Sharon, has always been a beautiful woman. Her golden-brown hair is resplendent with natural curls. At 5'1" she was slender and petite, which complemented her strong but elfin face. In her thirties now, she had grown into her looks even more.
She had always known my fetish for her wearing sheer or see-through tops without a bra. This was strictly within our home and when we have sex I'd love for her to ride me so that I could see all of her and watch her peel the top off mid coitus. Her beautiful breasts were perfect, just more than a handful, accentuated by her slender ribs and waist. Her nipples were exquisite in size and shape and were eminently suckable when hard; they protruded perfectly under the sheer, tight tops I would buy for her. What Sharon didn't know, however, was that I harboured a desire to show her off outside the house like this, preferably in a situation where her stunning tits were unavoidable to the glances of other men.
Sharon's upbringing was strict, which had left her with a fairly inhibited attitude to many things. However, underneath this, her natural adventurous side was still apparent to anyone who got to know her. Knowing this, I had no issue telling her how unbelievably horny it made me to see her in these tops, and she'd wear them often, and sometimes send me pictures of her wearing them when I'd least expect it. I'd choose tight fitting vest tops in white or pale blue, ensuring that the shape and skin of her tits were clearly visible through the thin fabric, along with every detail of her incredible nipples.
After a few years of us becoming parents, and both of us holding down high-pressure jobs, stress and tiredness took an inevitable toll on our sex life. It was then that I decided I needed to take the plunge and tell her of my fantasy. Even if she didn't want to do it, and I strongly suspected it would be a step too far for her, I reasoned that perhaps fantasising about it might give us the spark back or encourage her to open up about her own fantasies.
One evening, at the end of another exhausting day, we were on the sofa together watching a movie.
"Sharon," I said, still looking at the screen.
"Uh huh," she replied, also not diverting her gaze.
"You know how I love to see you in those tops..."
She fixed me with her stunning blue eyes and smiled.
"You mean the ones that you can see my tits through?" She teased, knowingly.
"Those are the ones" I quipped.
My heart started pounding in my chest, a strange mixture of arousal and nervousness. I had thought about this for years, and it was now or never.
"Well," I caught my breath and she looked at me quizzically.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Well," I continued "I think it would be really fucking sexy if you wore them outside the house sometimes."
Sharon looked at me shocked, eyebrows raised, but I was heartened to see that she did not appear angry or even dismissive. She furrowed her brow and simply said:
"Why?"
At this point I should have told her that her beauty and sexuality were so overpowering that it would turn me on to see the effect of that on other men who could not have her. That to see her embrace how I see her when I lust after her, and for her to use that for her enjoyment and mine; to see the desire for her in the faces of others, would absolutely floor me. I should have told her that all of my pleasure from this would come solely from her
wanting
to do that, completely unforced. I wanted to bask in her making other men desire her and for her to enjoy doing it. What I actually said was:
"Because it would really turn me on."
She gave this insipid answer the nanosecond of consideration that it deserved.
"You would be turned on by me going out dressed in a way that I would be practically topless?"
Just hearing her say those word made my cock grow stiff, and she noticed.
"Oh my god" she exclaimed, pointing at the bulge in my trousers. "You really would!"
I had to think fast; I had not brought my A-game to this conversation, and I was at risk of blowing it.
"OK" I said, "we'll come back to my little fantasy. What's yours?"
"Oh no..." she giggled. But then her tone softened, and she glanced downwards, shyly, but then met my gaze with clear intent "we should keep talking about how you want other men to get a good look at my tits."
Something had shifted in the mood. Could this really be happening? Was my shy wife engaging with me on this? I was expecting to either be laughed at or given a flat "no". Had I put an idea in her head that she was open to? Or had I awakened an exhibitionist streak in her that had been repressed? Or was she just taking the piss? My heart was in overdrive and my cock was straining against the fabric of my jeans.
I'd clearly been in my daze too long, and she bailed me out from having to respond in a coherent manner.
"Fair enough" she said in response to my hesitation. "I'll tell you my fantasy. I want to go out deep into a forest. Find a tree for you to lean me up against, and fuck like animals outside in nature." She laughed, and added, "far away from prying eyes!"
Of course, that sounded amazing to me too. But it also gave me an idea.
"I would love to do that" I said, "perhaps you could wear a tight, see-through, vest on the walk into the forest? You could wear a jacket so that you can cover up whenever you want, but perhaps if we see other people out walking you could choose some of them to be lucky enough to get a look at you?"
She ran her hand up my thigh and grabbed my throbbing cock through my jeans.
"Perhaps I could", she said softly as she leant in to kiss me.
My head was spinning as our lips met and her warm tongue entered my mouth.
The living room door opened, abruptly, and our young daughter entered, yawning. Sharon and I jumped apart.
"I can't sleep," said our daughter.
I looked breathlessly at my wife.
"We need a weekend away," I said.
Sharon stood up and took our child by the hand and lead her out of the room. She turned to look at me as she exited.
"Yes, we do" she smiled.
That night we had sex for the first time in weeks. It wasn't the routine sex we had fallen into the trap of, either. It was fucking with the same passion and intensity we had when we first met. But it was more than that, there was a new connection and excitement to it that made me realise something had definitely changed between us for the better.
By 10am the next morning I had arranged for our daughter to stay with my parents the following weekend, which was a three-day Bank Holiday, and I booked a holiday cottage surrounded by vast woodland. I was not letting this opportunity pass me by.
By 11am I had purchased a selection of the thinnest, sheerest, tight vest tops I could find online. Websites that had reviews for each product were especially useful, as often women who had bought that garment would advise that how thin the fabric was, and that it couldn't be worn without a bra. Of course, these were the ones to go for, definitely with a view to it being worn on its own. I bought four different ones, all in white. Three were in a smooth fabric, and one had fine ribbing in the material. Whilst the ribbing adds a small amount of the opaqueness, it causes the fabric to cling to the nipple, and in Sharon's case this would accentuate her perky nips beautifully, hopefully for all to see.
The next day they arrived, and I could not wait for Sharon to try them on, which thankfully she agreed to do straight away. She could see that I was excited, but I tried to rein it in. The fetish was heightened ten-fold with the prospect of soon, possibly, getting to add an exhibitionist and voyeuristic element to it.
We went upstairs and I lay on the bed, Sharon stood by it and took off her t-shirt. Her hair lifted with the shirt and then fell back down and rested on her dainty, bare shoulders. She reached behind and unfastened her bra. She paused to smile at my anticipation for the breasts I'd seen a thousand times before, and then dropped the bra to the floor.
Her tits stood out stunningly from her small frame and I immediately noticed how hard her nipples were.
"It must be cold in here," she said, blushing.
It wasn't.
"Which one do you want me to try on first?" she said, changing the subject.
I handed her the ribbed vest, making sure I didn't reach out too far so that I could watch her boobs hanging forward as she bent to take it. She put the vest top over her head and pulled it down until it seamlessly hugged her body. The ribbing on the vest emphasised the curve of her breasts, enhancing the shape and size of them, and her nipples pushed through the fabric in a stunningly obvious fashion. She looked irresistible.
"You like?" She said playfully.
"I love," I replied, honestly.
"I think it's flattering," she said.
I sensed that slowly she was warming to the idea, and I needed to make sure I was gentle with her and not push too hard, too soon. I wanted her to be completely onboard if this was going to happen.
"It's more than flattering, you look stunning. Check yourself out in the mirror" I suggested.
She turned to the full-length mirror and took in her reflection. She turned to the side, and I recognised that she was doing what I love to do when looking at her like this: admiring her beautiful hard nipples in profile. She turned back to me, smiling.
"Shall we try another one?"
"Yes please," I replied.
She took off the ribbed vest and dropped it on the bed. Like a goddess she stood over me, topless, her erect nipples jutting upwards. I passed her the sheerest top I had purchased; I couldn't wait any longer to see her in it.
The vest was made of an unbelievably thin fabric; smooth, almost shiny, and had thin shoulder straps. Sharon looked at it, and then back me to me, with an expression of incredulity.
She laughed, which caused her bare breasts to wobble, making her even more endearing.
"I might as well just wear water," she joked, observing the fabric.
"That's not a bad plan," I agreed.
"Yeah, silly me," she smiled, "I better not give you any more ideas".
She slid on the top and my mind exploded with the possibilities. It looked like it had been sprayed on to her. The sheer white fabric was so tight and transparent that you could see the skin tone of her tits underneath it. Her pink-brown nipples were clearly visible, and the fabric clung to every contour of them. You could clearly see the detail of her areola and the surface of her hard nipples that protruded over a centimetre from them. More than that, it accentuated the curves of her ribs and the muscles of her abdomen. She was the hottest thing I had ever seen; my cock was rigid, and my heart was in overdrive. My mind raced, not just at how fucking hot she looked, but at the possibility of her teasing other men like this.
"My god," I stuttered.
She turned once more to the mirror and saw what I saw.
"That's the one," I said.
