My wife Lisa and I had been married for 3 years, had been married with me knowing the whole time that as inventive and open as she was sexually, that there was even more in there, struggling to get out.
To help your imagination, Lisa was 33 when this took place, was 5'5, a curvy 150 with long brown hair and equally brown eyes. Her hips led to a smaller waist, led to a pair of natural 38 D D D's. And yes, i did say natural, and yes, there are 3 D's in that measurement.
I always thought she could easily become an exhibitionist, and that played into a particular fantasy of mine. So, having had it, I decided to see if she would be open to it.
I slowly built up her self esteem, had her wear tighter or more revealing tops and or clothing in public, began with a little naughty talk.
That led to pointing out her exhibitionist streak, which was there, just hidden. That led to sex with the blinds open, sex on the back porch with the chance people might see.
The more things progressed, the more she was turned on by them. Of course, the ultimate end to that progression was the part that frightened her, and it wasn't discussed, i.e., sex with another person.
It progressed more and more. We would go to the bookstore and I would sit and drink coffee while she brazenly flirted with people. That led to her one time sitting at a table in the cafe, letting a man put his hand on her thigh as they chatted. I thought that was as hot as it would ever be, simply because I didn't think she would go farther. I had the idea that she wanted to, but there is a leap between want to and will.
She would pepper the naughty talk at home with what ifs, as in, what if instead of his hand on me, it was my hand on him? What if someone asks me for more than flirting? Like my number or something? What if i run into a really cute guy, huh?
And that was when I began repeating the mantra that as long as she was open and honest to me, and that she protected herself, that honestly whatever she wanted to do was OK with me, so long as she enjoyed herself. and so long as I could see, or hear, as that was most of the eroticism with me.
That went on for a while, her questions, my answers, her not believing them and wanting to.
She had a shirt that was sheer, meant to go over another shirt, and she would start wearing just the sheer one, when answering the door for the pizza deliveryman. Or she would pretend she was just ready to go into the shower and answer in a towel, one time 'accidentally' giving the poor man a tit show as she reached for the money. The sex after these times were very hot, and she finally admitted the thrill of it all for her, and admitted that she was receptive to taking it further, if I were.
That led to another sit at the cafe with another man, and while I sat on the other side of the room, she placed her hand on his thigh. When she moved it, it wasn't to take it away, but to move it up. I watched her stroke him through his pants and realized that everything had begun.
Well once she decided to go for it, she suddenly went from being assertive and sexually liberated to wanting me to make all of the decisions. I think it was a way of justifying it internally, such as: having sex with others = slut, having sex with others while my husband gains enjoyment = slut, but good wife, having sex with others while my husband gains enjoyment and tells me what to do = submissive wife. And as she was raised traditionally in the Midwest, i think that the submissive wife was what she was most comfortable in.
I knew that in order for this to work, she had to honestly enjoy the situation, which meant we had to choose wisely and, more importantly, ensure that she would actually enjoy it, more so than rubbing or flashing.
To that end, with my prompting, she decided to see how she felt letting men see her, nude or partially so. She bought a web cam and would show off her chest, she would clean the house in next to nothing with the blinds open, etc. She enjoyed it. Our back porch was ground level and had about a 4.5 foot wall surrounding it. It bordered on the main thoroughfare of our apartment complex. It was 80 feet to another building, so you had a thinly veiled illusion of privacy, but people could walk anywhere they wanted, 80 feet away or 6 feet away.
She wanted to take a chair out, have me sit in it (which made me all but invisible behind the wall) she would hike up her skirt, sit in my lap and go to town. She wanted to do this in the evening, when it was dark, but knowing that someone walking and looking at the right time could see her.