This is part 3 of a series and it is highly recommended that you read the first two parts in order to understand the characters. As usual all comments are welcomed and encouraged.
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A year had passed since my sexual escapades and I had returned to the familiar role that I had had throughout my married life. I became the timid, shy and submissive housewife to my husband.
I loved being such.
He also insisted that I start to dress according to my persona and changed from wanting me dressed in stockings and suspenders all the time, to wanting me in plain cotton bras, panties and modest dresses.
At first this seemed a little strange and unusual, yet I soon realised that this would preserve the special time for dressing up. We did not want it to become commonplace and to lose the exciting, novelty that went with it.
Being a drab little housewife to the public, did not mean I wanted to screw with my beloved husband any less, it just meant that our personas and roles in life, as portrayed to the outside world, seemed more natural and suited to my submissive nature.
Away from prying eyes, Jack would still spank me from time to time. Just as we refrained from overdoing the 'dress-up', we also wanted our punishment sessions to be infrequent and therefore not lose their novelty and excitement.
I still loved being chastised by my dominant husband like a child, my bare bottom being spanked as I was told off for my misdemeanours. The butterflies were still be there as I prepared myself in my stockings, garter and heels and the delicious tingle that would run into my vagina, never failed to excite me. I would stand in the corner, hands folded in front of me, looking down at the floor like a naughty girl awaiting a spanking, as I waited dutifully for my owner to command me over the bed.
I was blissfully happy with my life. I had the wonderful bonus of having given birth to two beautiful children, long after the time that I had given up hope of being a mother. Although they were growing fast and I was slowly encouraging them away from my milk, I still breast fed my children from time to time. (This was still the wonderfully bonding experience when it came after a punishment. I can't explain why the feelings of my sore, tender, bruised and incredibly swollen nipples being tortured with the exquisite, beautiful, and painful pleasure it brought as I nursed my babies, somehow created a feeling that they owned me too and that I was there to serve them.)
Jack knew that he owned my body completely and he could do with it whatever he so wished.
He had a plan.
We had watched gentle porn clips together and I knew that Jack had a thing about women flashing stockings in public, the exhibitionist and the voyeur sections were always a favourite of his. We watched and learned from couples who did this, their skill in subtly and innocently teasing their audience was sexy to watch.
These couples and their videos became our inspiration and our motivation.
One day Jack said,
"When you dress for me on our 'Special Occasions' I love the fact that you belong to me and that I own you but I also want other men to look at you as well."
Jack loved owning me and when we went out he always made a big play of such. He admitted that he wanted to exhibit me a little more and that he wanted to observe me in everyday situations flashing my stockings for him. He also wanted to see other men's reactions to me, as I gave them an 'innocent flash'. This culminated one evening with him demanding that I dress as ordered but in a skirt even shorter than usual.
It never ceased to amaze me how a person could be so different on demand. When Jack decided it was time for me to change persona to pleasure him, I could change into my alter ego simply by virtue of dressing. I would fix my hair differently, put on a little make up and simply by the addition of heels, nylon and lace, I was transformed into my alter ego, like superman in a phone booth.
That night, as we walked down the street where most of the bars in our town were, my heels clicking on the pavement and my skirt only just covering my stocking tops, I felt incredibly sexy.
I felt wonderful when men took sly looks at me and I was amazed how strange it was, that simply dressing up took me from one extreme to the other. From drab prude to sexy mature woman.
We would sit in bars, not being obvious or crude about it, but subtly allowing men to see my stocking tops, garter belt clasp and the contrast between the black nylon and my white creamy thigh as I crossed my legs. I would go shopping and bend, twist and move in such a way as I subtly and selectively allowed men to see up my skirt.
Jack would always be 'just another guy' browsing the shop, as he watched my performance and my audience's appreciation. He was always filming with the hidden camera for our enjoyment later.
This was very mild, saucy and innocent fun. It sounds a little pathetic compared with what I had experimented with previously, with the extremes of sexual activity that some people indulged in and with the 'raw dirty sex' written about in erotica. Yet Jack and I absolutely loved the innocence of it all.
It was sweet juvenile flashing and I came alive with the feelings of being desirable, that I got from all the attention.
Jacks love of internet porn also gave him an idea for showing me off further. He had really enjoyed watching the clips on websites where women exposed themselves to delivery guys.
We talked about how something like this needed to be mutually exciting, it needed to be for both of us, not just one and decided to give it a try.
It was so incredibly exciting, don't get me wrong, this was very gentle controlled flashing, it was naughty rather than dirty. We started by flashing at home with pizza delivery etc but we realised that it would inevitably become a taking point between these guys and we didn't want to get a reputation. Due to take away food options being limited, there was only a limited scope for showing myself without it being to the same guy twice.
We decided that the best environment would be the hotel room, as a hotel room consisted of a bedroom and a bathroom, therefore being in various states of undress at the moment room service arrived was quite natural. The incident would then seem accidental, which helped us keep the exposure 'innocent'.
On the arrival of our target, (almost exclusively young men, but I once did have the thrill of exposing myself to a young girl which was quite a turn on.) I would emerge from the bathroom wearing just a robe. I would have it tagged back at the shoulders a little so as to expose my breasts when I moved or bent in a certain way. I would on occasions, allow the cord around my middle to work loose and give the service guy fleeting glimpses of my pussy through the gap.
As we progressed we inevitably graduated to the full towel drop. I would drop the towel and exclaim like it was an accident (the blushing embarrassment genuine.) I would hesitate a few seconds to allow this perfect stranger to take in my breasts and vagina, before bending to grab my towel.
I would always deliberately stand on the corner of the towel, so as I straightened it would snap back out of my fingers, therefore giving the man even longer to fully appreciate my naked body.
Being an old fashioned woman, brought up the way I had been and in the marriage that I had, meant that these games were terribly daring. They brought me alive and made me feel attractive and desirable. It was so fantastically inappropriate for me to be naked in front of young boys who were total strangers to me, to which the heat and trembling between my legs were ample testament to. However what made them really special, was the fact that without exception I was punished for it afterwards.
One day I revealed myself to the young boy that had been sent up with our order. I stood fully naked before him as he nervously and embarrassingly tried to look away from me.
A task he found impossible.
