Taking note of the date one morning early in May, Tracy felt relieved to have made it a full six months without once giving in to her occasional urges to get naked for strangers. "If there was an 'Exhibitionists Anonymous' for me to join," she thought, "I'd be getting a six month chip or something as a reward."
Not letting herself get into scandalous situations as she had been doing was reward enough. Though her most daring self-exposures were undeniably exciting, she always felt guilty afterwords; she knew they could have cost her her job, and possibly her family as well if she'd been arrested! It hadn't been easy, or even always successful, but with her husband's help she'd avoided any of the more uncontrollable displays of her naked body that had plagued, and if she was being honest, aroused her.
For a while Tracy had been lucky enough to keep Kyle unaware of her more blatant flashing episodes, those that resulted in her actually being nude in front of strangers. She didn't like to even think about how he might react if he ever found out on his own, without understanding the cause of her behavior. She worked up her nerve and confessed to every episode of improper behavior she'd had.
Telling her husband, in brutal detail, about her increasingly daring episodes of public nudity had been excruciating for both of them, but once she had explained to him how her medicine often created a strong, often irresistible urge to show off her body, she felt like she'd gotten a heavy weight off her shoulders. Kyle was understandingly confused by the side effect, and asked, "can't you just quit taking that drug, or maybe try a different one?"
"I can't just quit without having the serious tremors in both hands come back," she explained, "I couldn't work, probably not even drive anymore. With a six year old and a four year old to care for and you sometimes needing to work late or travel, I need to be functional!"
Starting to sound more angry than confused, he asked, "I get why you'd want to be able to live a normal life, but strutting around in the nude for whoever happens to be around to watch seems pretty far from normal. Are you telling me there's not some other drug which would stop the tremors but not make you want to expose yourself?"
"First of all, you need to understand that it's not that I want to do this; it's more like I'm being directed to get naked, with no way to stop except to do as the urge demands! And, yes, there is another drug without this side effect, but it's in very short supply because someone recently realized it also can help people lose weight; the last time I checked it would cost over $2,000 dollars a month!"
"So," Kyle said dejectedly, "you're telling me we just have to live with this and pray you don't get in trouble?"
"Maybe not," she said. She explained that she'd learned that showing off in minor ways, fairly frequently, tended to lessen the odds of getting an irresistible urge to be more reckless. "That's the reason my skirts are generally shorter lately than the ones I used to wear, or I'm more likely to leave an extra button on my blouse unbuttoned to allow a glimpse of my bra, if I'm wearing one, that sort of thing."
"And those thong bikinis that you wore on our last vacation, you never used to wear those, is this why you do now?"
"Yup." she replied, "better to show my buns than everything!"
"But even though you say that prevents these urges, you've still ended up stripping naked for an audience once in a while?"
"Yeah, I think it has something to do with my stress level. When I've had a particularly rough day at work, or the kids are bouncing off the walls when you're out of town, I'm more likely to do something risky."
"Like that night you went out to your car to look for your cellphone and I happened to call," he asked, "were you naked out on our driveway while we were talking?"
"I was inside the car for most of that call, but yes, I was naked the whole time I was out of the house," she replied, "but I thought you had guessed that anyway."
"Yeah, that's not really a surprise," he admitted, "I have to admit I thought it was pretty hot at the time, before finding out about your problem with the drug!"
"That's the thing," she said, "some of my improper behavior IS exciting, even if it is drug induced. As I recall you were happy enough when I went skinny-dipping that night at Jason's!"
"True enough," Kyle admitted, "but that was a way safer setting than the damned roof of your office building!"
"I know, believe me," Tracy replied, "that was a bit much, but I have an idea about how you could help me avoid getting in trouble."
"Okay," he replied, "what's your idea?"
"I thought we could have a short phone call every day, maybe even one in the morning and one in the afternoon if you have time, just to check in and see if I'm having any problems. There have been times when I've felt an urge building up but had it disappear after we had a call."
"It's worth a try," he said, "I'll call you tomorrow morning!"
The next morning, Kyle called Tracy as promised, just after 11:00. "Anything happening I should know about?" he asked.
"Nothing of note, but thanks for calling," she replied, "I think getting a little attention just for having a dark, lacy bra showing through a lightweight white blouse might be enough to keep me in line today!"
"I noticed that combination before you left this morning," he chuckled, "the guys in your office must have trouble keeping their minds on their work!"
Their mid-afternoon call was slightly more strained, with Tracy stressed by a rumor going around about some people in her office being laid off. "Are you okay?" Kyle asked.
"I'm upset to think about several people I work with possibly being let go," she replied, "not to mention the possibility that I might be one of the unlucky ones! But, no, I'm not feeling any urge to do anything outrageous. Yet. To be perfectly honest, there are a few less buttons on my blouse fastened than when I left home this morning!"
"And that seems to be enough?"
"I've only got to make it through another hour and a half, so I think so."
"Just so I understand the situation, when you say, 'a few less,' what exactly do you mean?"
"Well, my blouse has seven buttons," she said, "I never button up the one up by my neck. There are currently four still doing their job; I didn't even notice the last one being popped loose until sometime after I did it!"
"Got it," Kyle said, "you must look amazing! I hope we can take care of those last four when you come home!"
"There's a fine incentive to leave things right where they are," she said, "but we'll need to get Kevin and Emily to bed first!"
Much later that evening, hours after their kids went to sleep, Tracy thanked Kyle for his little phone call intervention, saying,"The tension in the office today is exactly the kind of thing that can set me off. Talking with you settled me down; the promise of some fun later tonight helped too! If I had given in and stripped down I'd have been too freaked out afterwards to enjoy doing what we just did, so a big win for you, too!"
"An excellent return on my investment of a few minutes on a couple of phone calls!" he agreed.
For nearly six months, a couple of phone calls with Kyle each day proved sufficient to keep Tracy from doing anything as shameless as she had been doing before she confessed her bawdy behavior to him. Simply chatting with each other, with a bit of flirtation, generally was enough to suppress the level of exhibitionist urges she still was experiences.
Their efforts to prevent any particular urge from taking over were not completely successful; one afternoon Kyle called Tracy, expecting to have the usual lighthearted, flirtatious conversation that had been their norm, but was thrown off balance by the tone of her voice as soon as she answered!
Without even saying hello she asked, "Do you remember what I was wearing this morning when I brought Kevin and Emily to school?
"Um, yeah, I think so," he answered, "purple bra and matching panties, tan camisole, black yoga pants, and a belted maroon cardigan. Why do you ask?" He kicked himself the second his question passed his lips, thinking, "she wouldn't be asking if I remembered what she WAS wearing unless she was at least thinking about NOT wearing some of her outfit!" Quickly regrouping, he asked, "Are you okay? Do you need some help?"