First of all, I wanted to thank everyone that read part one and for all the encouraging comments. I was honestly really surprised, and it gave me the encouragement I needed to continue the story.
This section is written from the perspective of Lydia, the star from the Halloween party. The next entry will pick back up on our "husband" Ethan's perspective.
As overwhelmingly stated, I will avoid delving into anything supernatural. A large facet of the story I had planned however revolves around an exclusive kink club focusing on power play and domination.
Please let me know what you liked and didn't like about this story. Feedback is something I've never really played with before.
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The Halloween party unlocked something in me. I was less stressed, more alive. I hadn't felt this refreshed in years! My prize, the resort waver was at the front of our minds, and I couldn't wait. I got permission from my husband to "treat myself" to some fun new clothes for our trip. What he didn't know is that it was Vanessa that would be choosing most of the orders.
Day after day, packages arrived at the doorstep. Dresses and tops with plunging necklines, tiny bikinis, and of course lingerie that could give a holy man a fever. Each time I'd slip into my new finds and give my husband a little preview of what was coming. I gauged what clothing made the cut based on his reaction. It was almost turning into a wordless game where I judged his reaction, and often by the strength of his erection.
One evening another package arrived. I was fresh out of the shower, still slightly damp and wrapped in a towel. Without thinking I raced to inspect the new delivery. I Should have been more careful, but I was moving too quickly. I opened the door and passed through to retrieve the package. The door handle snagged the overlap in my towel and didn't let go. In a flash the only thing keeping my decency was gone! In my momentum I had left it hanging on the door knob and stepped out into the cool air completely stark nude.
The young delivery man was just dropping off my parcel when he looked up. His face jumped between confusion, fear, boyish joy, and finally embarrassment. To make things worse across the street, our sweet elderly neighbor Mr. Horton practically dislocated his jaw in surprise at the accidental display.
Crisp autumn air washed over my naked body, hardening nipples that now pointed out fearless and free in front of the strangers. For a split second, I stood there, completely exposed. I glanced over my shoulder at my husband, cheeks blazing, but still... I didn't cover up. My towel was behind me. A strange but familiar thrill raced through my heart. Even though I knew I should be embarrassed, a small part of me relished the thrill.
"Good morning!" I managed awkwardly, taking up the package and using it to hide as much of my breasts as I could. The delivery man was young, college aged, and in uniform. His freckled face blushed while his eyes scanned up and down taking in my figure. While the small package hid my breasts, my womanhood didn't even have pubic hair to protect against an unwanted gaze.
"G-good morning, ma'am." His eyes still wide were not directed at my face. I chewed nervously at my lip, "Do I... need to sign anything...?" His head snapped up in realization. The neighbor was still frozen in place, watering an already drenched shrub. "Uh-yeah here's your... you can sign here." He stammered. I held the package close with one hand and signed with my other. "Thank you, goodbye!" I said turning to get back inside. My hand did little to cover my exposed ass when I ran inside.
I was flustered, but if I was being honest with myself, more thrilled than ever. The shock on their faces, the dumbstruck look on my husband's face, it left me tingling. "That couldn't have gone any worse!" My husband called from behind his desk. "I probably should slow down next time." His eyes were still wide and glued to my body, still perky from the cold. "If you slowed down any more, they might have time to draw your portrait!"
By dinner that night, Ethan had calmed down. We even laughed about the whole thing. I particularly laughed about Mr. Horton and his stupefied stare. "I mean, he probably hasn't been surprised like that in ages," I said playfully. Ethan grinned and shook his head. "No doubt you gave him something to think about. He's probably telling his friends about this incident as we speak."
After that, every new delivery seemed to stir a little spark of excitement around the house. My husband wasn't complaining about my behavior, surely, he would enjoy the show himself. Knowing Mr. Horton may be around I found myself lingering in the doorway a little longer, letting the cool breeze dot my skin and arouse my nipples. It was thrilling, like a secret wager I'd taken without speaking it between me and my husband.
It didn't take Mr. Horton long to notice either. He began to find reasons to be in the yard when packages would arrive; tending to his bushes, cleaning a bird feeder, or just checking the mailbox for the second or third time that day. His participation became part of the routine. I could feel myself flush and perk up every time I went outside in a thin robe, or braless under a t-shirt.
One afternoon while lounging in only panties and a tank top, a particularly daring order arrived. This time, instead of rushing, I took my time. I thanked the flustered delivery man and opened the package right there on the porch. It was a silky and slinky, mini-dress, more daring than any dress I'd ever worn. I slowly inspected the fabric and held it up to myself to gauge a fit.
Across the street Mr. Horton paused, frozen in his "yard work". His gaze lingered just a moment too long and I went back inside to satisfy my husband. Ethan caught my gaze suspiciously, but didn't mind the view himself.
November was settling in, mornings growing colder, and the strings of sunlight that streamed through the windows were a welcomed warmth. After my husband was gone to work, and the sun was beginning to rise, I'd pry the curtains wide open and let early sunlight fill our bedroom and the front room with light.
The way the light displayed my curves and highlighted my blonde hair was emboldening to say the least. It made it almost impossible not to linger a little bit longer in front of the windows. My mornings developed into a new routine: coffee, breakfast, then drifting through the house in increasingly skimpy lounge wear.
At first it was innocent enough. I'd walk around wearing only an oversized sweater or tank top; keeping just enough covered. But as days passed, and my husband's thirsty glances gave me encouragement, my choices of "morning attire" grew more daring.
One particularly chilly morning, I wandered through the living room in nothing but a cropped cami that hugged my athletic core and a pair of shorts that barely reached my thighs, every curve was unapologetically on display. Ethan noticed our curious neighbor before I did. I watched his hands fidgeted at the curtains, gripping them tightly as if caught between the urge to pull them shut and the temptation to let this quiet game play out.
"Oh let him look," I chuckled softly. "He's harmless." He didn't respond, but he stepped back from the window, leaving the curtains parted. His silent concession sparked the beginning of something, a boldness I hadn't dare explore before. I didn't just pass the windows anymore; I lingered. When I adjusted the throws on the couch, I bent over with deliberate care, letting the fabric of my shorts stretch and display my tightly toned ass. And when I paused to admire the view outside, I leaned into the moment, my hip cocked, my posture a quiet invitation to any wandering eyes.
One golden afternoon as the sunlight bathed the room in gold. I stepped out of my bedroom in a silk robe so thin I could've probably gone without it. The material barely reached the tops of my thighs. Ethan looked up from his book, and I caught the flicker of absolute lust in his eyes. I deliberately stretched up on my toes to dust things throughout the room. The movement pulled up on my robe and the hem slid up, revealing my skin where my husband expected panties.
Ethan watched enthusiastically his mouth hanging open. I sauntered over to the bookshelf at the end of the front room, carefully placing each step. The robe slid higher with every move I made, teasingly exposing more of my thighs till it rested below my naval. When my arms returned at my side the robe fell open, framing my breasts in a deep V of black silk.
Ethan's eyes darted from me to the wide-open window where Mr. Horton stood frozen in his front yard. His mouth hung open and leaves blew out of his hand till he was holding nothing. It was such a funny scene, but the heat that rushed through me was anything but funny. My skin prickled and electricity woke a warmth between my legs. The stakes had risen again.
"Do you think he noticed?" I purred with mock innocence. Ethan swallowed hard, already forgetting about the book now abandoned on the couch. "Either he's frozen in the yard because he's having a stroke, or we've both seen most of my wife naked in a robe." The package swelling in my husband's boxers made me so hot I could sweat. I didn't mind letting my robe fall open to quench my burning skin. I had been working hard after all.
The silk robe slipped from my shoulders, pooling precariously at my elbows. Mr. Horton was given a view first of my shoulders leading all the way to the two dimples at the small of my back. It was Ethan that got the best view. My right breast spilled out into the air and with my legs parted he could see the uncovered lips between my legs.
