Step

Hi, I'm Yvonne, and I'm very proud of my body. I know that sounds very vain, but I am. At thirty I'm in great well toned shape with firm full breasts and long legs, a waist you could close your hands around and a smooth shaven pussy that Peter, my husband, describes as the cutest he's ever seen. That's a nice thing to say, but the trouble is that he doesn't want to risk anyone else knowing how cute it is. He'll never even go to a nudist beach let alone chance the possibility anyone seeing us doing anything sexy. Unfortunately I'm something of an exhibitionist who enjoys people seeing me naked, especially if I'm doing something naughty - very especially if I'm doing something naughty. So as you might guess I can get extremely frustrated at times.

I first discovered my exhibitionistic streak when Peter and I were having sex one day in the living room with me on top. I could see out of the window although Peter couldn't, and what I could see was a young man standing on the roadway watching. He wasn't close enough to get a good view and when he realised I'd seen him he quickly walked away, but the thrill that went through me at knowing we'd been seen was out of this world. I wanted that buzz again, but more so.

But then I made the mistake of telling Peter about it in the vain hope that he cater for my predilection and do it where we could be seen. Not a chance. Not only did he not go for it, he got really annoyed that I'd not immediately covered myself up when I spotted the young guy watching. The fact that I was bouncing up and down on his cock and on the brink of coming at the time seemed not to matter to him. I got mad and he got mad and we ended up having a furious row about it, and after that he will only have sex with me with the curtains drawn – in whichever room. But I can be a very devious and determined bitch and not so long ago I found a way around his limitations.

He had begun to work a shift pattern that meant that one week in three he was on nights, and I took to surfing the web when he wasn't there. It didn't take me long to find a site where people go on webcam and let other people watch them. Yes, I know now that there is probably no end of such sites, but until then I didn't. The point is that this has given me an outlet for my exhibitionistic tendencies. I can strip off and show myself off on my webcam to dozens of men – and some women - without ever leaving my living room. I have to be careful to make sure that the camera is angled so that it never shows my face, but otherwise everything I have is on display, and I do mean everything, and in a variety of different poses and positions. I even masturbate and use a vibrator on myself on camera, but the best is when I have an orgasm on cam, and that's pretty regular. You can have no idea how much of a turn on it is to know I have an audience, and to read their comments as they scroll down the screen. Most are complimentary, many contain suggestions as to what I should do and how I should do it, and a good number propose meeting up for sex. But that's not the idea; I just get a kick from people seeing me having fun on my own.

I must admit that I wish I could get the communication that would come with looking at my audience in the eye as I play, like I did so briefly with that first young man. But that's not really possible because almost all the cams are pointed away from faces, and seeing someone on a screen is a bit second-hand anyway. God, it would be so much better and hotter if my audience was actually present in the same room. In fact my ideal would be if Peter was prepared to fuck me in front of other people and let them see his cock going up me, but that is never going to happen and as I'm not prepared to let some unknown male from off the internet do it I had to resign myself to making do with playing by myself for all to see.

But then something happened when I bumped into one of our neighbours in the street that I thought would put even that in jeopardy.

'I saw you last night,' Gavin stated bluntly.

I just stood and stared at him, hoping he didn't mean what I thought he meant and scared stupid that he did. I looked around quickly, making sure nobody was within earshot.

'I saw you last night on the internet.' He expanded slightly.

'What do you mean?' I asked, knowing exactly what he meant and feeling the blood draining from my face. I wasn't so much bothered by him seeing me, because that was what I was doing it for; it was the implications that went with it that scared me. What if he'd recorded it and showed Peter. And, how did he know it was me in the first place.

'I saw you showing off on that website.' He named it and it was the right one.

'How do you know it was me, it could have been anyone.' I realised even as I spoke that saying that was tantamount to an admission of guilt.

'Hold your hand out.' I did as I was told. 'That's how. You didn't think to take those rings off and I recognised them. How many people do you know wears a dragon biker ring on their hand along with a Celtic patterned one?'

'Somebody else could do.' I was grasping at straws and I knew it, my choice of jewellery is a bit out of the ordinary.

'Yes, they could.' He acknowledged with a shrug. 'But what would be the chances of them having a fairy ornament on the bookshelf behind them as well?'

I was, as they say, caught bang to rights. Now I was suddenly petrified that he would tell Peter and I would be in a real mess. He must have seen my fear, for his next quick words were obviously intended to reassure.

'Don't worry, I'm not about to make trouble for you.'

'Thank you.' I told him, mightily relieved before I abruptly wondered what he was going to do, and why he had told me instead of keeping quiet and enjoying a free show. If he was thinking of sleeping with me in exchange for his silence he had another think coming. He's a very sexy man, but as I said before, though I love to show off I wasn't looking for anything else. Not right then, anyway.

'I'll be watching again, you don't mind, do you?'

I wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical, I mean, I couldn't stop him, could I, and anyway, as I said before, that was what I was doing it for. I thought about it and the idea that I would know who one of my audience was quite appealed to me. I could look at all the cocks on show and wonder which, if any, was his.

'No, I don't mind. In fact I'd like that.'

He paused and I could seem him wrestling with something he wanted to say, wondering if he dare I supposed. Finally he came out with it.

'How about a private show?'

I hadn't expected that and for a moment it took me aback. But the thought of it sent a thrill down my spine. It would be a hell of a turn on to have a good looking man watching me in real life.

'Just to watch?' I asked him. 'Not to touch.'

'Yes.' He answered, his eyes lighting up at my unexpected interest. 'I wouldn't do anything except watch you.'

I thought about it, part of me wanting to have nothing to do with the idea in case it went wrong, and part of me desperate to try it. You can guess which part won. The thought of a man like Gavin watching me from literally only feet away was too good to pass up.

'There would be conditions.' I told him, thinking about what I could get out of it. 'Absolutely no touching, and I mean that.' He nodded excitedly. 'No complaining if I feel I have to call it off, and...' I paused myself then, unsure if I should say what was in my mind. 'And you do the same thing.'

He frowned as if not quite sure what I meant.

'If I'm going to let you watch me, then you have to let me watch you.'

'You mean that you want me to wank myself off as well?' He sounded part incredulous and part eager, mostly eager.

'Yes, strip off naked and wank, just like I do.' I was feeling more in control now.

His silence seemed to last forever, then. 'Yes, I'll do that, and I promise not to touch you.'

I giggled at that, because it suddenly struck me how ludicrous it would sound to anyone who overheard us negotiating the terms of a wanking session.

'Then you're on.' I told him, seeing his face split in a huge grin, just like mine. 'But if it's going to be this week it'll have to be tomorrow night, because after that Peter will be at home in the evening for the next fortnight.'

'I'm sorry, I can't. I've got to go to a seminar tomorrow and I won't be back until Saturday.' He shrugged apologetically.

I felt my spirits sink even as he opened his mouth. I hadn't realised quite how much I wanted it to happen until then, but I managed to fake a look of unconcern. 'Oh well. We'll just have to wait a couple of weeks, won't we?'

I gave him my number with instructions to text me after a fortnight to tell me what evenings he had free. If he'd realised how dry my mouth was and how much my heart was thumping he might have cancelled his seminar in case I'd chickened out by then. One thing was for sure, when I went online the following evening - without the telltale rings and accompanying fairy - I put on the sexiest show ever, just in case he was watching in his hotel room. I wanted to show him something to be sure he remained interested, even with the no contact arrangement. But by the time the fortnight had gone I'd become certain that he'd back out because my unambiguous rule against touching would put him off.

Then the long hoped for text finally arrived and my heart leapt to find that he was still keen, and that he was free almost every evening for the coming week. We quickly arranged an early meet. I'd been certain I wouldn't hear from him, or if I had, that he would have wanted to change our agreement - and I still wasn't intending anything more than a mutual watching session. So sure was I that, when my doorbell rang and I let him in, the very first thing I did was to remind him of our agreed boundaries.

'You can look, but you can't touch. You do understand that, don't you?'

He smiled. 'Looking is all I want to do. I saw you Friday evening and you were so hot that I think just watching you in the flesh is about all I could cope with.'

'Thank you. I'm glad you saw me, I was thinking of you.' I was pleased that he'd actually seen me, but I think I blushed as I admitted he was on my mind.

I think he picked up on my embarrassment, for we both suddenly went quiet.

'Don't forget to let me watch you.' I reminded him to break the silence.

'Oh yes.' He nodded. 'I haven't forgotten.'

Another silence, this time because neither of us was sure how to start things off.

'I'll get some tissues, ready for when you...' I told him, blushing again and turning abruptly to make for the sanctuary of the kitchen.

I took a deep breath, asking myself did I really want to do this with all its attendant risks if Peter ever found out, because he wouldn't see the difference between exhibitionism and playing away. The straight answer was that I did want to do it, very much, I could feel myself damp already, and in any case, if Peter ever discovered that I'd been putting on displays on the internet I'd be in just as much trouble – and I had absolutely no intention of stopping. I couldn't go without that. I even fantasized that the camera was on when he and I made love in private. I was rapidly becoming obsessed. I grabbed the box of tissues, squared my shoulders, rehearsed to myself how I'd thought it should go, took another deep breath and marched back into the living room.

'Okay, here's what we'll do.' I told him, sounding a lot more authoritarian than I felt. I plonked the tissues decisively down on a side table and turned an armchair so that it directly faced the sofa. Then I surveyed the layout as if looking to see that it met my satisfaction, although really I was just getting my nerve up for the next bit.

'Right. We'll take our things off, and then you sit there.' I pointed to the armchair, trying to stop myself from visibly trembling with nervous excitement. 'And I'll take the sofa.'

I looked at him until he nodded and began to unbutton his shirt, and then I reached for the zip at the back of my dress. This was it.

Bizarrely, the moment I was naked all my anxieties disappeared and I could look forward to what we were going to do. I must say that I could hardly have picked a better partner to do it with. Gavin's body was beautiful, maybe a little hirsute for my choice but fit and toned without being over muscled, and as for his cock, wow! He was long and hard with a purple head that peeped out from an abundant foreskin. I almost regretted my no touching rule – almost.

I could see him looking me up and down as I turned to deposit my panties with the rest of my clothing, and so I deliberately gave him a profile, knowing that my nipples were standing out like the proverbial organ stops. I'm blonde, so they're not very dark and a profile is probably the best way to see how long they are. But my colouring does have its advantages, because it also means that my bush is naturally light and my pussy is easy to keep smooth, which in turn means that my naturally long clitoris is constantly on show whenever my legs are apart. Even so, I like the way I am, and apparently so does my online audience. Now I would see if Gavin thought the same in the flesh.

I sat in the centre of the sofa with my knees together and waited for Gavin to compose himself comfortably in the chair opposite. Only then did I very deliberately open my legs and let him look at my pussy, cocking my head to one side and smiling as if asking for his opinion.

'You are beautiful.' He whispered hoarsely, saying just what I wanted to hear.

'You ain't so bad either.' I stared pointedly at his cock, wanting him to know how much I liked the look of it.

He grinned lopsidedly and took a hold of it, running his hand gently along its length, not yet masturbating, more just showing it off. I could do better than that. I raised my open legs and rested my feet on the sofa either side of me, showing him everything, and then, just to make sure, I reached down and used a finger and thumb to hold my labia apart and let him see my engorged clitoris and the shiny opening to my vagina. He didn't speak, but I could see the lust in his eyes.

'Let's do it.' I muttered.

Now he began to play with himself in earnest, not wanking frenetically yet but sliding his hand along his shaft a little more quickly and gripping it more firmly than before so that his foreskin closed over the purple head of his cock before exposing it again as his hand moved away. God it looked so damn sexy. I started to play properly with myself too, using two fingers on my clit, stroking it, rubbing it, playing with its tip, moaning softly to myself at the same time with pure delight. Gavin gripped the arm of his chair with his free hand, showing the intensity of his pleasure in his grasp, while I used mine on my breast, squeezing hard, tugging at my nipple, almost hurting myself in my excitement. We gazed intently into each other's faces, seeing the pleasure that we were both experiencing, conscious of our active fingers without really looking at them. I think that to anyone watching it would have been one of the most erotic sights they could ever see; certainly it very quickly had both Gavin and me breathing heavily and on the way to coming.

There was no way we could keep playing so deliberately and so sexily for long, the circumstances were making us both just too bloody horny for that. Soon our hands started to speed up without any real conscious intention, and very quickly I had one hand that was gripping hard into my breast while the fingers of the other flew back and forth across the tip of my clit. Gavin stared at me openly for a while and then his head dropped back onto the chair and he watched from under half closed lids, muttering from arousal, his hand now pistoning along his cock. He too was clearly on his way to a climax.

I came first, and God, was it good. I can't say my orgasm was unexpected, but it was certainly very quick and very sudden. It kind of just detonated inside me and I was totally swept along with it, out of control. It was far stronger than any I got online and even than the ones I enjoyed with my husband. Perhaps it was the illicit nature of it, or perhaps it was because a man's eyes were fixed on me, but for whatever reason it was the strongest I can ever recall having. All I can remember is gasping out loud, my head thrown back and my hips jerking. My fingers were pressing hard onto my clit now, and my other hand was grabbing at my breast to the point of real pain, but I didn't care, I just came and came and came.

Eventually of course it subsided, much to my regret, and I slumped back in my seat, panting for breath and shaky with excitement, my hands lying limp and still against my skin. I was still jolting with the little orgasmic aftershocks that kept running through me, but I licked dry lips and raised my eyes back to Gavin.

'Fuck, that was something.' I gasped.

He nodded without speaking, wanking himself furiously with one hand and with his free hand now cupping his balls. He wasn't quite there yet, but he was obviously on the brink. I wondered vaguely if he knew where the tissues were, but before I could remind him, or say anything at all, he suddenly clambered to his feet and staggered across to me, still wanking frantically. For a moment I panicked, thinking he was about to break our no touching rule, but then I realised what he intended and I opened my legs wide again, taking my hands from my body to let him shoot his load over me.

He stood between my legs, leaning over me and steadying himself with a hand on the back of the sofa. I watched him wanking from only a foot or so away, waiting eagerly for him to spray me with cum. He clearly intended to cum on my face and I opened my mouth in anticipation, wishing that he would come on my pussy instead, but in the end he couldn't quite aim it accurately. A few wayward spots did land on my cheek but he was so out of control with arousal that his first spurt sent a long string of cum across my breasts and the next one over my belly. After that he just let it shoot anywhere over me, none of it landing where he or I actually wanted it to. I didn't really mind, the feel of his warm cream spattering down on my skin was wonderful, regardless of where it landed, and I remember thinking as it happened that it didn't matter because there would be other occasions.

Soon he was empty, milking the last drops from his cock to land on my thigh before staggering back to drop into his chair, gasping for breath and looking as drained as I felt. We sat there silently, just gazing in wonderment at each other while we both got our breath back. I felt his cum, cooling now, trickle down from my body and it made me shiver with enjoyment and I collected a little on my fingertip, placing it seductively between my lips. It tasted so nice I collected some more, licking my fingers while gazing at him in a silent plea for an encore.

'Sorry, I shouldn't have done that.' He apologised, misreading my expression.

He shouldn't have really, showering me with spunk was probably just as intimate as physical contact, but I didn't care, I'd loved it. I didn't even think it counted as a breach of our agreement.

'Yes you should have.' I corrected him. 'I liked it.'

Now we sat in naked silence, contemplating what we had done and what we might easily do again while we looked at each other's bodies. I could see his eyes flitting around me looking at my breasts and the join of my legs. My feet were on the floor now and my knees nearly together, but I deliberately let them drift apart again so that he could see my pussy. It was nice to be appreciated. I was appreciating him too, enjoying what I saw even with his cock flaccid and shrunken. It would be nice to see it back to full erection. I almost felt an urge to go across and help it recover.