Exhibitionist & Voyeur: A bikini mishap awakens Melonie's exhibitionistic desires.
Exhibitionist, voyeurism, wife, public nudity, beach, bikini, embarrassed, neighbor, party
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Melonie pushed away from her computer and rubbed her eyes. The lines of code she wrote had started to blend into one another. It was almost 5 PM anyway. After spending eight hours staring at a screen, she wanted to enjoy one of her favorite things—the feel of summer sun on her skin.
As much as she loved the sun, though, the sun didn't love her back. Her skin was so pale that she turned lobster red unless she coated herself in SPF 50 sunscreen. She peeled off her work clothes, a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. One of the advantages of working from home was the lax dress-code. She put her long, wavy black hair in a ponytail to keep it out of the way before applying an SPF chapstick to her full lips. Then she picked up a bottle of sunblock and smeared some over her button nose and high cheekbones. She made sure her entire heart-shaped face was protected, careful not to get any in her large brown eyes. She continued down her long neck, then her slim but toned arms and legs, before moving to her back and round ass. She worked up to her taut stomach that showed just the faintest lines of defined muscle. Lastly, she coated her bell-shaped breasts. They weren't huge, large enough she could fill out a sexy top, but not so large that going braless for the day was painful. She coated her light pink areola and large round nipples, even though her bikini would more than cover them. Her nipples were sensitive, and she just liked the little jolt it gave her.
Once she was sufficiently protected from UVB rays, she pulled a green, tie-on bikini from her dresser. It was one of her favorites because it covered enough of her ass and C-cup boobs to be considered decent, but left just enough skin exposed that she still felt a little daring. She admired herself one last time in the mirror. It was moments like these that made her believe the pain of a Brazilian wax was worth it.
Her phone buzzed. She looked down and saw she'd received a text from her husband, Darren.
Won't be home for dinner. Deal fell through and I've got a mess to clean up.
Melonie pouted to herself. Darren worked as a real estate attorney, and sometimes his work swallowed him up. But added to her income, it did allow them to afford this house in a nice neighborhood, only a fifteen-minute walk from the beach. During the summer, Melonie went to the beach often enough to recognize the regulars. Those who were her closest neighbors she even knew by name.
She slipped on a pair of sandals to save her feet from the burning sand, as well as a sun hat and a large pair of movie star sunglasses to protect her eyes from the sun's glare. Melonie grabbed her beach bag and folding chair as she stepped out the back door of her house. The lawn was starting to get a little overgrown, but they had enough secrecy with their high fence not to hear complaints from the homeowners association. The mowing could wait for the weekend.
When Melonie arrived at the beach, she saw several of her neighbors dotted along the sand. She spotted Sheryl and Zack sitting close to the water. She gave them both a wave and a smile. Sheryl was a very petite little woman, barely 5 feet tall. She had dishwater blond hair, a plain face, and an almost flat chest. Zack, on the other hand, was 6'5" and very broad-shouldered. Melonie was often curious about how they accomplished sex. Even if Zack were just proportionally endowed, he'd probably split his tiny wife in half. But she kept those questions to herself. They'd only known each other socially for about a year. The couple had been the first to introduce themselves when Melonie and Darren moved in just after getting married. They chatted for a moment before Melonie just sat back, enjoying the warmth of the sun. That, coupled with the rhythm of the choppy waves, had her drifting on the edge of sleep.
"You still with us, Melonie?"
She snapped back to consciousness to see Bill standing a few feet from her. Bill was their next-door neighbor and perhaps Darren's best friend. He seemed like a genuinely good guy, and she liked him well enough. She especially enjoyed the little thrill she got when she'd catch him checking her out. He tried his best not to look like he was—he was just terrible at hiding it. As was evident by how often he lost at cards, Bill had no poker-face.
He was already setting down a towel, and he sat down quickly, probably to hide the evidence of the physical effects she was having on him. He looked a little ridiculous. Even though Bill lived in the same affluent neighborhood close to the beach, he never thought to invest in beach towels. Instead, he used bath towels—a very single-guy-living-alone type of choice.
Bill was slim and tanned. She didn't find him super attractive but considered him more puppy-dog cute, with shaggy blond hair and blue eyes.
Melonie's type was tall, well-muscled with dark eyes and dark hair. Luckily, she had married a man just like that.
"I was actually getting close to falling asleep." Melonie sat up a little straighter in her chair.
"I debated whether or not to bother you, but I figured if you were unconscious for too long, you might get a sunburn."
She briefly considered torturing him by asking if he'd help her reapply sunscreen, but that seemed pretty close to crossing a line. She figured it would be best if she had a little swim and then headed home.
"I should be okay for a little while longer, but thanks for the save." She stood, stretched somewhat dramatically, and said, "I'm gonna go into the water. Does anyone want to join me?"
"Sure," Sheryl said, while Zack just shook his head no.
Bill looked at her, drawing his knees up to his chest, "I'm gonna stay here for a while." Melonie could tell he was nervous.
She took off her sunhat and glasses, setting them on her chair before slipping off her sandals and walking quickly to the water's edge. The wet sand didn't carry the same sting as the sand higher up the beach. The water splashing over her manicured toes was warm, almost like bathwater. Melonie and Sheryl waded out into the water until Melonie was neck deep, and Sheryl's feet hadn't been able to touch the ocean floor for a while.
"Bill has it bad for you, doesn't he?" Sheryl asked, bobbing up and down in the water.
"He's not great at hiding it."
"Not at all!" Sheryl paused for a second. "Have you two ever—"
"What? No. He's cute and all, but I'd never cheat on Darren."
"I'm not talking about cheating, I—" The next wave was enough to pick Sheryl up and move her towards the shore.
"Listen, the waves are getting bigger, maybe we should head in," Melonie said.
Sheryl's eyes went wide, and from the pull of the water, Melonie didn't even have to turn her head to know a big wave was coming.
She felt the pull of the undertow, right before the wave hit. It knocked her off her feet, and her world spun. When she came up, she couldn't see Sheryl. Her heart lurched, then she saw the small woman's head break the water's surface, just in time for the next wave to hit. Melonie had always been a strong swimmer. Sheryl, on the other hand, was struggling and coughing when her head breached the water again. Melonie swam towards her.
Panic causes drowning, and drowning causes panic. It was a vicious cycle that Sheryl was stuck in. Although Melonie had lived close to the ocean most of her life and had heard more than once that if someone is drowning, you need to approach them from behind, watching Sheryl's head disappear beneath the waves blasted that knowledge from Melonie's brain.
Sheryl made a mad grab for Melonie's arm. She missed and instead pulled hard on the green bikini top, just as another wave hit, tearing it completely off. Melonie was left with a choice: reach for her bikini top or a living person who might drown. It wasn't hard to decide. She abandoned her top and hung on to her sputtering and flailing neighbor. It was only because she was so small that she wasn't dragging Melonie under the waves.
Melonie swam towards the shore, occasionally aided by the waves as they calmed again. Sheryl, however, didn't calm down. Her arms and legs continued to thrash. In all the struggle, something must have loosened the knot on the left side of the green bikini bottoms. Melonie could feel it flapping back and forth in the waves. She suddenly wished she had thicker thighs and a smaller thigh gap. That might have been enough to hold the bottoms up, but instead, they slipped further and further down her legs with each kick.
Melonie had to choose again, her neighbor, or her modesty. She kept both her arms wrapped around the wriggling woman, and her bikini bottoms disappeared into the waves. Melonie was finally close enough to shore that she could stand on two feet. She carried Sheryl, half because she was still coughing and half because her tiny friend was a shield preventing the whole beach from seeing her naked.
Zack noticed something was wrong. The panicked husband ran into the water, meeting Melonie when she was knee-deep in seawater. He grabbed his wife and practically tore her from Melonie's arms. He was so focused on his crying and coughing spouse that he didn't notice he had just completely exposed her rescuer to the small group of beachgoers made up mostly of her neighbors. They had gathered at the waterline, attracted by the commotion.
Every one of them was doing their best not to stare, though many were failing. Melonie didn't know what to do. She froze. For a moment, no one seemed to move. Then Bill pushed through the crowd clutching a towel. As much as he probably would enjoy the view, he was a sweet guy and wouldn't leave her stranded, naked on the beach. Looking over the top of her head, doing his damndest not to take in her naked form, Bill waded through the water and handed her the towel. Melonie was grateful, but slightly less so when she realized he grabbed one of his own, much smaller towels. Then he turned around, partially blocking her from the onlookers' view. Melonie wrapped the towel around herself, clutching it to the side, so when it opened as she walked, it showed off the front of her thigh instead of putting her completely hairless lower lips on display for the crowd again. She stepped around him and made her way to shore, her cheeks turning red. No one made a single comment about what they had seen. They were too polite. As quickly as she could, she went to her stuff and slipped on her sandals. She made to grab for her chair, but realized the towel was too short and bending down would have shown her whole ass and at least some of her vulva. She couldn't even grab or switch to one of her large towels without flashing everyone again.
She heard Bill's voice from behind her. "I got it." He folded her chair and picked up her bag. "Would you want me to walk with you to your house?"
"Please. Thank you."
As they were about to turn to leave, Sheryl ran up, still out of breath, but calmer. "I'm so sorry. I just panicked," she said, looking just about as red in the cheeks as Melonie's felt. "And thank you."
Melonie tried to laugh it off and said, "I needed to buy a new bathing suit anyway."
"I will buy it for you," Sheryl offered.
"I appreciate the thought, but I'm fine. I'm just glad you're okay."
Sheryl wrapped her arms around Melonie, nearly making her lose the towel.
"It's really okay, Sheryl."
"I owe you," she insisted.
