I had been out shopping with Jen. When she and I got back to our house, I had no idea Michael was home. I thought he was at the office working. Jen and I chatted for a few minutes and then she headed out.
I opened one of the bags which had a cute little nightie I had purchased. I knew Michael would love it on me. As I thought about the fun of revealing it to him sometime later, I felt my body tingle. It was arousing to let my mind enjoy the fantasies of what that would be like.
I glanced at the plates of mirrored glass in our dining room. I framed my reflection with the nightie. Although I was wearing jeans and a top, my vision managed to envision my body with just the nightie covering it. I felt sexy.
As I sometimes would do when I felt aroused, I moved to the computer. This was when I would feel inspired to write a naughty story at Literotica. My mind wandered to the exciting fantasy of standing on a windblown balcony overlooking the ocean, wearing only my new nightie. Michael stood behind me, admiring how the setting sun silhouetted the lines of my body visible under the sheer, sexy nightie.
I typed away, trying to record my fantasy thoughts. I worked in naughty elements of Michael fondling me as I leaned against the balcony railing, daring random strangers walking on the sidewalk four stories below to peek at us. There was also the couple on the balcony angled just across from us, making out but certainly aware of our presence.
My mind took a naughty turn, creating a scenario where that couple focused on Michael and I, watching him touching me, revealing my body to their eyes. They eventually left their balcony, exited their room, and moments later showed up knocking at our room door. Before long, they were interwoven in my story and mind, sharing the erotic fantasy and forbidden pleasures.
The nameless couple joined Michael in exploring my body. Three pairs of hands massaging me, erotically fondling me, moving over my body with designs of lust. As my writing progressed my fantasy, I removed my jeans and top. Then, after sliding off my panties and bra, I slithered the nightie over my body.
I tried my best to describe the fantasy my mind was conjuring up. It was naughty to be detailing what it would be like to have not only Michael, but a random, anonymous, married couple also participating in our foreplay.
Then the unexpected happened.
Michael was home. I had no idea.
Michael had slipped into the room behind me. I had no idea.
He finally broke the silence I mistakenly thought was my solitude with a soft-spoken, yet firmly worded question.
"What the fuck is that?"
I was so startled that my hands nearly jerked the keyboard into my lap as I spun around at the sound of his voice.
I tried to say something, but words would not come out. In the few seconds, which felt like an eternity, I sat there with that stunned look on my face, Michael eyed both the computer screen and my body lightly veiled by the sheer nightie.
He stepped to my side. His eyes were intense. His voice again pierced the silence as he repeated his question.
"Kathleen. What the fuck are you doing?"
Tears began to well up in my eyes. My story-writing was a complete secret. Nobody, not even my best friend, Jen, had any idea that I did this. And now I was exposed. I fumbled to say something... anything.
"Just... um, a story journal." My attempt to somehow wrap a piece of the truth in a fallacious package of possible acceptance was a weak attempt at best.
"A story journal? What is that?" Michael's slings and arrows tone intimidated me.
I broke down and began to cry. He knelt beside me, placing his left arm around my shoulder as his right hand took control of the mouse. He scrolled up to the top of my story. I shivered as I helplessly watched him read every word of it.
My secret fantasies. My forbidden lusts. The unspeakable and naughty interactions. The details of how my body was pawed by the hands of strangers. My thoughts... omg, my secret thoughts flooding that computer screen and filling his eyes and mind.
The irony was tragic. In my story, it was ecstatic to be clothed in just that nightie and be exposed to others. In the reality of that moment, it was excruciating to be sitting there in my nightie and having my secret desires exposed to my husband.