The Gift In The Beginning

I'll start with the requisite description of my wife who is half french and half Vietnamese. She is five foot ten inches tall in thigh high stockings; still weighs around one-twenty-five; and fills a 34C-cup on the rare non-working occasions when she wears a bra. Her hair is nearly waist long and naturally jet black. However, she's changed colors so many times that I'm pretty sure her roots are confused as to what color they really were.

We met in college, where my wife was working towards her MBA while working at a small branch of a large well known bank. I had decided to complete my engineering degree and registered for classes after a ten year hiatus that had started with a two year all expenses paid tour of Southeast Asia. We had two classes together. She was hard not to notice, a beautiful young woman with the longest, most amazing legs I have ever seen. In an era when most women, and seemingly every woman on campus, wore mini-skirts and mini-dresses, her hemlines reached new heights.

The first time I saw her, on our first day of classes together at UC Riverside, it was all the leg she was showing that first got my attention. It was the rest of her that kept it! The first time I looked into those captivating brown eyes I was hers! I would have willingly signed my bank account and credit cards over to her right then and there! It wouldn't have amounted to much back then, but it was hers for the taking! As it worked out, about a year later I did just that, I proudly made her my wife.

My wife's parents barely escaped Mao's purging of Vietnam in the late forties and eventually settled in California, in the greater Los Angeles area. Her drop dead gorgeous mother is Vietnamese. Her french father told me that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. I can personally attest that, other than my wife, he is probably right!

I discovered early on in our relationship that my future wife was a blatant exhibitionist. She had started going bra-less back in the early seventies when it was considered an expression of 'Women's Rights' for them to burn their bras, a symbolic gesture, freeing them from the shackles placed upon them by society in general, and more specifically - MEN! But she didn't quit wearing a bra as a 'Women's Rights' statement! She quit because she is an exhibitionist! Many's the lucky guy that got a flash of her panties or a quick glimpse of her magnificently sculptured breasts and thimble-sized nipples, rock-hard and distended from her knowing that they were watching.

Then there were the incredibly short skirts and dresses she always wore! Anyone who cared to look knew what color panties she was wearing. Most guys, including myself, cared to look! It was only after we moved in together that I discovered the secret to her amazingly high hemlines. She only buys petite skirts and dresses; clothing made for women a foot shorter than my wife's five-foot, ten-inch frame. All of her skirts and dresses, and little cropped-top blouses, were all Petites! Luckily for me she prefers older men, as I am twelve years her senior. A year later we were married.

All through our dating period she would flash her tits or her panties anytime the opportunity arose. I think my enjoying her flashing as much as she did had an awful lot to do with our getting married. My earliest recollection of her flashing someone was of her pretending to be asleep as we descended El Cahon pass on our first trip to Las Vegas, after two months of dating. I was just keeping up with a semi, letting the driver get a good look at my dates tits. She was wearing a light brown see-through blouse. As we drove along side of some semi she pinned the hem of her little skirt to the seat and slowly inched down until most of her panties were showing. I didn't say anything about it until we were in bed later that night in Vegas, after an evening at the blackjack tables. I admitted that it was exciting, and that it had made me harder than a rock! She blushed and then hemmed and hawed about it until I confronted her with the fact that her pussy was dripping wet and all we'd done so far was talk about her flashing a trucker. That was the first, and most fortuitous, discussion on the subject that we had like that so early on.

We soon added her flashing all of my buddies, the salesmen in shoe stores, the seating areas in malls and gas station attendants who came out to fill the tank and check the oil; even getting in and out of the car; and then pretty much any time we went out in public to our list of opportunities. We even came up with a signal for her to flash someone! I would open and close my middle and forefinger in a scissors motion, but with the palm of my hand parallel to the floor, in a miniature version of spreading your legs! In fact, many years later, and well past the time when we'd progressed to her flashing sans panties, we read about a couple, I think it was in a Penthouse Forum magazine if I had to guess, late seventies, early eighties, that was doing the same thing we were, except that they had a name for it - LIS - for 'Let It Show.' So from then on that scissors motion was our signal for LIS!

From there we graduated to flashing men in bars while we were acting out our role play fantasies; again something we first read about in a magazine. My wife would go into some upscale club or hotel lounge, alone, wearing one of her little *thumb dresses or skirts and find a seat at the bar. Then, for the next few hours, I would watch her dance and flirt with other guys until she gave our prearranged signal, and I would pick her up.

(*Thumb dress: If you were to put the flat of your open hand between my wife's thighs {lucky you} like you were shaking hands, with your thumb pointing up and the hem of her skirt or dress touching your wrist, the tip of your thumb would get wet!)

After we married, and with a little encouragement from me, her wardrobe became progressively more revealing. Whether she was wearing something from her ever-growing collection of little black dresses, a mini or micro-mini skirt, short-shorts, or the collective bits of cloth that she referred to as bathing suits, we have both always enjoyed the attention she inevitably draws whenever and wherever we go out.

Then in early 1978 a friend of hers, and her boss at the bank Joan, the manager of the bank branch where my wife was the assistant manager, told her how she and her husband (who by coincidence was also a lot older than her, the same age difference as us, twelve years) had started reading the stories from Penthouse and Forum magazines to each other in bed at night; and how much it had spiced up their marriage. So naturally, we tried it too! We began to fantasize about the stories as foreplay in our bedroom. I would read one aloud that I found exciting, and then she would read one that she liked. To make our fantasies more realistic we moved our game out of our bedroom and into nightclubs and hotel bars. We would go out together but enter separately. She would dance and flirt with lots of different men.

That was a major turning point in our marriage! We discovered what was to become our favorite fantasy topic, and an entire genre of stories previously unknown to us, wives picking up strangers for sex; often in hotel bars and nightclubs with their husbands watching discreetly from somewhere in the bar area! Sex with a total stranger! Sex for pleasure! Wham-bam thank you Sam, and Jeff and Robert and Ed and; and well, you get the picture.

One of our favorite flashing scenarios was for her to spin around on her bar stool until she was facing her intended target, then pin the sides of her skirt or dress to the cushion as she slid off of her barstool. This usually resulted in the hem of her skirt riding up to her hips as she slid down off of her barstool - 'accidentally' exposing her panties, and then later on her shaved pussy, to anyone who just happened to be looking her way, which was usually anyone in the area.

Then one night one of the guys she'd been dancing and flirting with offered her some coke to take to the ladies room. My wife never turns down coke! An hour or so, and several more trips to the restroom later, I watched as a complete stranger fingered my wife to an orgasm as they sat at the bar. He thought no one could see them, but I did! Later that night, after we climbed in bed, was the first time we talked about 'stepping up' our game and taking it to the next level. We started seriously talking about her giving it up to some stranger; having sex with some guy we would never see again!

Oh we still had our regular weekly Tuesday night game nights, because she didn't have to work the next day, but now we were allowing the men a touch or two, three if the right guy came sniffing around; and then I would pick her up! There were many occasions when we were both so horny afterwards that we couldn't wait to get home and have sex, and ended up getting a room wherever we were! If we weren't in a hotel or motel bar we would knock off a quickie in the car to take the edge off before we got home.

The 'game' became our regular weekend sport! I worked second shift and would get home as quickly as possible, shortly after midnight, on Fridays and Saturdays; and an hour or so later we were in the game.

But we soon tired of that version of the game too and, by mutual consent, it was decided that a new game would be more exciting! Our new 'Game' would be a spectator sport; one where the other participant got to play too, even if they didn't know it was a game! The new 'Game' would take us to the next level. Fantasy to reality! She would 'give it up' to someone we didn't know!

We must have talked about her 'giving it up' to one of the guys she danced and flirted with, some guy we would never see again, for over a month before it finally happened. But then, like so many other 'Best (getting) laid plans', ours didn't go quite the way we had discussed it. Oh my wife 'gave it up' alright, but not to some guy we'd never see again; not the first time anyway!