Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal.
This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are
under 18- 21 in some localities If you are underage you must leave
now. If you're and curious, this is not the place to get the
straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange
and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this
stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral
climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories.
They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be
pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so we
can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain,
despair or humiliation. End Sermon.
A Sheltered Life
For me, being from Iowa was an inferiority complex waiting to
happen. Nothing I had grown up with had prepared me for southern
California. I know my own self-awareness was the biggest difference
between me and the rest of the transplants, but it set a foundation for
Steven to build on.
And it wasn't until we had moved to Arizona that he started to
pull my strings. It may have even been just an accident because of
where we lived.
Arizona isn't all flat. It isn't even as flat as Iowa. We lived on
hills just outside of Phoenix and the houses were terraced up and down
the elevations. That meant we could look up and see houses and we
could look down and see other people in their yards. Or at least the
groupings of stone that pass for yards here.
I never caught him, but I think Steven was watching one of our
downhill neighbors sunning on her patio. That's my guess why he
suddenly began his campaign to get me naked outside. He didn't even
start easy by trying to skinny-dip in the hot tub at night. He wanted me
to just strip off in the middle of the day where anybody above us could
be watching.
"So what if someone sees you? You afraid you'll drive them all
sex-crazy?" he asked.
"Don't be stupid, You know what I mean. It's brazen. And it
looks like I'm asking for it," I told him.
"Boy, you're some feminist. Aren't you talking about the
ultimate in objectification? I'm naked, so I must want to have sex with
you. Don't you think you ought to have the right to walk naked in your
own yard if you want to? You don't have to live a sheltered life any
more," he lectured me.
"That's silly. I don't want to walk naked in the yard," I told him,
not going to fall for his weak first try.
"Jesus Christ, for once risk the binding- open the book all the
way. Now just take off your suit. I want to see you naked outside," he
said with an edge in his voice.
I had objected. All we were going to do was argue and I was
going to end up naked on the patio anyway, so I gave in. I was hoping I
could make him feel like an asshole. I was planning on giving him a
haughty stare while I stripped and then wave woodenly to any
supposed peepers looking down at me. That was the plan.
I untied my top full of resolve, but as I felt the fabric lose
contact with my skin and the warm air flow over my breasts, I couldn't
keep that focus. There could be a hundred guys- and children- and
other women looking down the hill. They would be looking at my tits.
A lot of times people say they've seen before so it's no big deal,
but those weren't mine. There seemed to be a very real presence in my
head at the base of my skull shouting into my brain- you slut, whore,
hussy!
I was bathed in the tingling of terrible sin as I dropped my top
and felt gingerly for the waistband of my bottoms. I wasn't sure that I
would be able to finish this. I feared that the excess of emotion would
make me pass out before I could reveal the deepest of my secrets to the
Arizona sun. I certainly didn't need the sun to scorch me pink. I was
flushed with the biggest blush I ever had as I tugged the bottoms over
my white, sun-virgin ass.
It was our own back yard, but I had already elevated the count
of eyes on me into the thousands in my own mind. I felt like a prize hog
on display at a county fair. I felt exposed and vulnerable to every
distasteful twist of imagination possible.
I felt excited. I was breathing with the rapid, shallow breaths of
fear, and my twat was swollen and seeping with the shame and the lust
confusing themselves in my mind.
I think Steven had much, much more planned for our little nude
posing session, but I was in no mood to drag out the feeling. I was
trembling with the emotions pouring through me and he saw his
opportunity. He let me drag him into bed as one concession.
Lord God Almighty! It was the best sex we had ever had. I had
an orgasm as he was rubbing his cock over my slit trying to find the
entrance. And then I beat him to a second orgasm even though he was
fucking me as fast and hard as he could looking for the quickest climax
he could have.
It was a little easier to talk me into getting naked in the back
yard after that. But as surely as we had found a great tonic for out sex
life, it started to fade in effectiveness. Steven had been right, thought he
hadn't meant to be. I should be able to walk around naked in my own
back yard. I got used to it and developed the attitude that if they
wanted or needed to look to get off- let them.
But this time it was me that was dissatisfied. As I lost the fear
of stripping, I lost the prick of passion as well. The thrill wasn't gone,
but it certainly didn't amp me like it had the first few times. I missed it.
I really wanted the thrill back.
I even figured out what it was that made me so horny. It was
the shame. It was humiliation. And pretending didn't do it. Pretending I
was showing off in church only pretended to excite me. I needed to do
something that pricked my moral code. It had to be a real conflict or I
didn't get the rush. Steven said he understood.
I didn't know what he was planning when he packed us into the
car 'for a drive'. He was so spooky, I had a glimmer, but nothing more.
We ended up at Lake Roosevelt up by Payson and he rented a pontoon
boat for us.
For those of you that think Arizona is a desert, let me tell you
about the lake. It sits nestled amid sharp overhanging cliffs in many
places, flattening to allow approach only at its ends. It is also a very
popular recreation spot since a lot of the rest of Arizona is a desert.
Now, mostly the people stay at one access or the other. There's
swimming and fishing and boating all cordoned off by markers for each
purpose. That's why it was only a little stimulating when Steven stopped
the boat between the cliffs and told me to take off my clothes. Sure, I
was in a public place, but I didn't see anyone around.
A boat might come down and see me, but that was little better
than standing naked on our patio. It was enough of a risk to draw my
nipples taut and make me shiver even in the warm sun, but I wasn't
twisting up inside- yet. I walked to the front of the platform like a
figurehead on an ancient ship and held up my arms to the sky. Steven
started the boat slowly moving forward again.
There was a tingle as we moved toward the unknown. We were
trolling for witnesses and the chance vibrated excitement through me like
the thrum of the motor vibrated the aluminum platform beneath my bare
feet. Yes, I was brazen. I was naked for anyone passing to see. The
thrill warmed as we moved between the walls of rock and I was soon
living in the fantasy of people seeing me and pointing in shock.
Steven gave the motor one burst that nearly dumped me on my
ass and then shut it down. We drifted forward around an outcropping
and suddenly I was caught. There were three camping on
one of the rare beaches created by rockfall in the canyons. They
glanced and then three heads shot up like startled deer as they saw me
standing in the bow.
I could feel the flush spread from my neck down over my
chest and up my thighs from my crotch. I blushed crimson from head to
toe as I saw these staring to capture this moment indelibly on their
brains. I was frozen for the moment and Steven urged me quietly.
"Don't cover up," he said in a low tone, "This is your chance.
Pose for them. Show off for the campers. Give them a good show."
I was still caught in the static net of my uncertainty and excess of
emotion as we drifted closer and I realized I was standing motionless with
my arms still half extended and hanging dumbly in mid-air. It was almost
the west quick-draw position as we slid ever closer over the surface
of the still lake. I felt ridiculous as well as embarrassed, but at least the
young weren't laughing at me.
Steven, however, had ideas.
"Move, dammit," he said, rather sharply, "Shake your
moneymaker for the boys. Show 'em some moves. And for Christ's sake
give 'em some pink."
There was no more room for additional blood to flood the
capillaries under my skin, but if there were, I would have blushed afresh
as Steven made his obscene demands. I remember the heat from my
burning ears next to my head as I brought my hands back and started to
sway. I was trying to dance, but it was as if the humiliation had my feet
glued to the deck. And all the time we were drifting closer and closer to
the boys.
We were no more than 25 feet offshore when Steve came
forward and shocked me by slapping me across the bottom.
"Move!" he demanded and I was hurled into what I thought was
a sexy dance.
I think Steven took pity on my sad display at that point because
he kept feeding me instructions under his breath.
"Shake your shoulders- make your swing. The hips in circles.
Turn around and shake your butt. Bend over and pat your bottom.
Touch your breasts. Hold them up. Squat and spread yourself open."
The words sound terrible as I recall them, but at the time I was so
overcome by my shame and dismay that I could only follow his directions.
Even the obscenity of the acts themselves- spreading myself so strangers
could see inside my womanhood- did not rouse any protest in my trance-
like state of ... Lust- it was lust, however much the staid Iowa wished not to acknowledge this darker part. My cheeks burned with
shame as my fingers performed these undreamed of acts of exhibition, but
there was no denying the flowing wetness they found as they parted the
nether lips.
The bow had softly grounded on the steep edge of their rockfall
and I was no more than 10 feet away from their wondering faces now.
They could see every hair fringing the mouth of my and they too
had to realize how turned on I was at showing myself to them. Then
Steven raised the stakes again.
"Hey! Don't you got cameras?" Steven shouted out to them.
He broke their spell as he had broken mine and their still tableaux
became a fury of motion. As they scrambled for the cameras, Steven urged
me up onto the seat of the craft. There I would be unobstructed from the
knees up as my pictures were entered in their scrapbooks.
The ice broken, the became my masters. After a few
moments of parading on the seat, one called out for me to show him my
ass. Then they all were directors, calling for this pose or that as they
snapped souvenir photos of their extraordinary day.
I was only excited now. The flush had become a glow as the
exhibition exhilarated me and I felt queenly as I exposed myself to them.
I was deeply in arousal as I posed. My flowed its honey and my
breath came short and quick from the stimulation of their gazes carressing
me. I wanted a hard cock so bad.
And Steven accomodated me. He pulled me off the bench and
lowered me to my knees in front of him. The quick hiss of his zipper and
his erection sprang out at me and I eagerly gobbled it in. I was so hungry
for it that I was halfway down his cock when I remembered where we
were and that an audience was watching and perhaps photographing my
performance.
I no longer cared. The shameful start had become this lustful state
where Steven's cock was the only thing that mattered in the world. No,
the audience mattered. It made it feel like I was being taken by all four at
once as I knelt and my husband's cock for them.
After a short time, Steven touched my head and said, "I want you
at the rail. Kneel on the seat and hold the rail in both hands."
The were shouting bawdy encouragements as I took the
position, arched and open for Steven to step behind me and plunge his
hard cock into my cunt. And then he fucked me for their amusement.
Their amazed faces are a blur as I think about being taken over
the rail. I saw, but didn't see as my mind was distracted by the hard pole
plunging inside me. I was vaguely aware of my flopping with each
insistent slap of Steven's belly on my ass and I remotely heard my cries of
delight as he explored my core with his hard cock.
But then I only heard the echoes of my shrieks bounce off the
rock walls as Steven fucked me through an orgasm and then a second as
I was lost in the mists of lust, screaming and begging for more in words
that I do not admit I know.
That was food for further humiliation as I came back to my senses
and knew what I had just done. I had shown that deep, dark recess that
even I would not look into. I had displayed it openly to strangers. Tingles
of guilt suffused my body as those realizations came over me. I was again
caught in that delicions warzone between the farmgirl and the dark desires
within.
But, as I imagined he planned, Steven's energetic filling of my
cunt had gently, thust by thrust, caused the boat to ease back into the
channel and we were floating away. Steven zipped his fly before he
stepped away and I realized that the on shore had not gotten the
least glimpse of his own nudity. He had retained his privacy and dignity
while stripping me of the last shreds.
The waved and shouted thanks as he eased the motor on
and pulled slowly down the lake.
"What now?" I asked.
"Are you satisfied, or do you want more?" Steven asked.
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