Chapter 1 -- My Early Experiences
My husband Tim and I have been married for a little over three years. Like so many marriages the blush has begun to wear off and we were looking for ways to spice up our sex life. I did not have a lot of sexual experience and my husband was the only man that had ever made love to me.
Over the past few weeks we have had many discussions about what we could do to add some spice back into our love life and during one of our talks I had admitted that there were two things that really excited me. Naturally, my husband wanted me to tell him what these two things were and why they excited me. I was reluctant at first but finally I told him that the first thing that really excited me was the act of being exposed to strangers. When I said this my husband simply looked at me with his mouth open.
Of course, when he returned to consciousness, he wanted to know how I could know that. He knew that I had been a virgin when we got married and that my sexual experience had been somewhat limited.
I told him that one of my most exciting experiences had happened when I was fifteen. I was at the beach with a bunch of boys and girls. During the afternoon we had organized a game of volleyball. Like most of the other girls I was wearing a pair of shorts and the halter top from my bikini bathing suit. During the game I was at the net and jumped high to block the other players return. Even then I had forty inch boobs which did a whole lot of moving around as I jumped for the ball during the game.
At one point I had moved so quickly that my top slipped off one of my breasts exposing the nipple. I was concentrating so hard on the game that I was totally unaware that all of the guys on my team, the other team and those watching the game were thoroughly enjoying the view. I must have played that way for several minutes before one of the other girls caught my attention by pointing at my chest.
I could hardly believe my eyes as I looked down at my bared breast. All the boys moaned in disappointment as I hurriedly worked to get my wayward breast back into my halter. My face flushed deep crimson as I looked around me at all of the male faces.
Unable to continue the game I quickly excused myself and ran to the ladies room. When I stopped trembling I realized that, in addition to the embarrassment, I had been excited at the thought of all of those males seeing my milky white tit with its large dark areola and dime sized nipples. My nipples were all wrinkled and scrunched up with the excitement. I must have been quite a sight with my bared breast flopping free as I jumped and gyrated around.
I told my husband that later that night, when I had time to think about what had happened I realized that I had been excited by the accidental exposure. Not that I would do this type of thing on my own but I had certainly been highly stimulated by the experience and believed that I would enjoy accidental or forced exposure.
He asked me what I meant by "forced exposure". I told him that the second thing that I thought would be very exciting was being forced to do something that I would not normally do on my own. Shaking his head at this revelation my stunned husband wanted to know what in the world made me think that I could be excited in this way.
I was really reluctant to tell him about my high school experiences since it involved a bunch of the black boys at the school. Finally, after assuring me that he would understand, I told him about the black boys in high school. He spluttered and stammered and finally was able to ask me exactly what I had done with black boys. So, I told him.
I had matured at a fairly young age. By my seventeenth birthday my boobs had reached their current size of forty-two inches and required a "C" cup. Of course, my large boobs and those of the other girls in school were of major interest to all of the young males at the school. One day a group of black boys lined up on either side of the exit from the school. They left a very narrow space that you were forced to walk thru to exit the building. When boys moved thru they actually opened up a wider space to allow them to get through. Whenever a girl headed out the door the group of boys would move closer together forcing you to brush against them as you passed.
The first day this happened I watched and figured that if I followed a boy thru I would be ok. I guess the boys had thought of that too and as soon as the boy had passed the open space closed down again until I was unable to pass without brushing my tits and ass on someone. It was not too bad since no one aggressively did anything and over the next few days several of us girls became used to the situation and just walked on through even though it was humiliating to brush ourselves against those boys.
Over the weekend it seems like the boys got together and decided to up the ante just a bit. On Monday as I started into the narrow opening I noticed that the gap closed behind me. When it did I sensed the difference and stopped and turned to look back. Startled I quickly turned and was relieved to see that the way out was still open.
I hurried down through the boys trying unsuccessfully not to rub my tits and ass on anyone. It was impossible and many of the boys smiled as I was forced to push through the crowd. Some of the boys left their hands at their sides so they could enjoy my ass as I walked by. Others crossed their arms so that they could more easily enjoy the sensation as my large soft tits slid past them.
I stumbled out of the group and headed home. As I did so I was thinking about the strange feelings I was having. My face was flushed, my nipples were swollen and hard and I was sure that my panties were wet in the crotch.
When I got home I quickly went into my bedroom and closed and locked the door. I dropped my pants and panties as soon as I had put my books down. I was right! The crotch of my panties was soaked with my juice. It was obvious that I had been stimulated on some level that I did not understand. It seemed strange but it was clear that my body had enjoyed the experience.
Once I accepted that notion I went even farther to realize that I had enjoyed it emotionally also. How was it possible that I had enjoyed something that I had been forced to do? Could it have been possible that I did want to do this thing? If so what did that make me? It was too much for my young teen mind to contemplate at this point but the facts could not be ignored. I had liked it!
At the end of the week there were still several of us girls that were willingly walking through what we had begun to call the gauntlet.
On Monday the boys upped the stakes once again. By this time it was clear to the boys that those girls that continued to walk the gauntlet were enjoying the attention at some level. It was clearly time to push things to the next level and see how far we were willing to allow this to proceed.
My dress for school usually consisted of a pair of tight jeans and a pullover top. Up until now I had clutched my books tightly to my chest as much as possible. I had sensed that the boys would probably change their tactics so this time I did not carry any books to use for protection. I approached the gauntlet and entered it quickly not taking time to possibly change my mind.
Like last week, the entrance closed behind me but this time the path before me looked so much narrower than it had been. Resolutely I pushed my way along the path only this time the boys were treated to the touch of my breasts on their folded arms. Up until this point none of the boys had actually touched me but about halfway down the path the opening closed down for just a moment and in that moments time I felt a hand reach between my legs and rub my crotch.
At the touch of this strange black boys hand on my crotch my body stiffened and my legs nearly buckled. I know that this had been planned but I think that the boys were a little startled by my reaction. The hand was jerked away and the pathway opened wide and I rushed through.
When I got home I was shaking all over. I was embarrassed to think that some black boy had put his hand between my legs and cupped my crotch. Hell I did not even know which one it had been. The more I thought it became clear to me that that was part of what I liked. These boys were forcing me to allow my body to be used for their enjoyment and I liked it!
For the rest of that week things went back to the way that they had been earlier. I brushed my way through the group but no one else made an effort to fondle me in any way. Each day when I got home I was aware that I felt let down. After I had gotten over the initial shock of that black hand reaching between my legs I had gone back every day from a need to feel that hand or another on my body but nothing happened.
I guess when I was still walking thru the gauntlet at the end of the week the group of boys decided that they might still be able to raise the stakes even higher in hopes that I would go along. Little did they know that this was exactly what I wanted.
The next Monday I pretended not to be paying attention and walked the gauntlet with my books down at my side. In moments the opening closed and I was so startled when I felt hands cover all of my intimate spots that I just stopped in my tracks. Of course, this only encouraged the boys.