Exposed Ch. 14 Pt. 01

Chapter 14 A Summer of Earthly Delights (Part 1)

I noticed a change in my husband since our walk in the rain. He was becoming much more dominant with me in a way that catered to my desire to feel submissive, vulnerable, and sexy.

What had me worried however was when he told me that he was going to rebuild our deck during the summer turning it into a multi level affair.

My heart sank. "What about my affairs?" I thought to myself.

Just when I thought that this summer was going to keep me on my submissive toes so to speak another long project was planned.

"I would be lucky if I performed at all." I thought.

I realized that in order to let my submissive nature flourish I needed to get more pro-active. I needed to become an assertive submissive.

I resolved to eat better, exercise regularly, wear clothing that would get his attention, and as often as possible give him a peek of my undies.

I would behave as if my husband was a very important client for whom I would just about do anything. I reasoned that by taking care of his needs I was going to get him to take care of mine.

Thankfully our weekly dates continued although they were interspersed with social functions with clients.

We would go out with his clients about every other week. I enjoyed these work dates as it gave me an opportunity to wear something other than Mom clothes.

Whether I had on a dress, skirt and blouse, or dress pants, I always wore stockings and a garter belt underneath.

Thus at the end of any evening out, I would be sure to let my client see what I was wearing underneath.

Happily this always resulted in a slight detour where my client would play with me until I orgasmed.

I loved how his hand felt as it reached the top of my stockings touching the bare skin of my upper thigh. Then it was on to my crotch where his magic fingers brought me to a convulsive conclusion.

My turn followed as I freed his erection from its' fabric constraint and then used my tongue and lips to bring him to a very yummy and gooey expulsion.

My client still wasn't having me perform. At least we were getting our orgasmic needs met. But I still wanted more.

Gradually my Mom clothes wardrobe transformed into "client catcher" ones.

Since summer was just around the corner, I was filling my lingerie drawer with small bikini panties in pastel shades of light blue, pink, beige, etc. often with sheer panels placed provocatively in the front or entirely across the back.

I was buying light weight summer dresses and skirts that had a semi-sheer quality to them particularly in the bright sunshine.

I, also, found a fabulous denim mini dress that fit like a glove making it quite apparent that I wore bikini style panties. The dress had a zipper down the front that went from the scoop neckline to the hem.

It just seemed that it might come in handy should I be required to strip.

I was loading up with my own style of ammunition.

After only 60 days I could see the difference that my new diet and exercise program were making and found myself looking in the mirror quite often as I got dressed.

I was liking what I saw and thought it a shame that no one else was seeing me.

One of my regular exercise routines was to go into the basement to inline skate. My oldest daughter had a pair that fit me perfectly.

After I cleared the clutter downstairs I had a small oval where I could skate around and between the metal support poles.

Waiting until everyone was gone for the day I would slip downstairs where I would strip to just my panties.

I would then put on the knee pads, elbow pads, and wrist guards and start skating.

The cool damp air of the basement would feel incredibly energizing in a very sexual way.

My nipples would be hard as little pebbles while my areoles would be covered with goosebumps.

My entire body felt so alive.

I would imagine myself being a roller derby doll who had somehow lost her uniform during a match.

Round and round I would go with an arena filled with fans yelling and screaming their delight over my lack of clothing.

It would become so real to me that I could feel my face flushing in embarrassment while my entire body vibrated with excitement.

In this state I could skate non-stop for almost 30 minutes after which time I would sit on the lower stairs breathing hard due to my exertion as much as my arousal.

Then I would walk back upstairs carrying my clothes to the bedroom and hop into the shower still wearing my now soaked with sweat panties.

I would hand wash them while in the shower so they were ready for my next roller derby match.

Once I was finished doing my intimate laundry, I would treat myself to a good working over often ending up sitting on the floor of the shower with my legs spread wide and the shower spray trained on my protruding kernel.

You would think that this almost daily routine would keep me contained, but instead it seemed to further ignite my urge to misbehave.

As an example, the week that school was out for the summer we went on vacation with our daughters to a beautiful area in our state.

This had become a regular vacation spot for us. We loved to go to the local parks and walk the hiking trails.

Only this particular time I left all of my walking shorts behind bringing a collection of short summer skirts instead.

Every day I wore a mini skirt.

You can tell how desperate I was. C'mon! Who wears mini skirts to go hiking?

Surprisingly my daughters never questioned my choice of hiking attire. They were seemingly getting accustomed to their sexier mother.

Whenever our daughters were occupied and far enough away, I would find the opportunity to lift my skirt up and over my hips letting my client see what I had on underneath.

(Do you like my Duran Duran top in the photo? I found it at a second hand clothing store and couldn't resist buying it.)

I was on a mission.

I felt that if I could get him feeling as sexually charged as I felt, than his desire to control me would emerge.

I can't tell you how many times I was almost caught by unsuspecting hikers as I was flashing my nylon lycras.

Despite my best efforts I just couldn't tell whether I was making any progress with my client.

Then one Sunday afternoon shortly after we returned home, my client informed me that he had to drop by the office for a short time and asked whether I wanted to go along.

I said, "Sure!" Knowing that it might give me another opportunity to provide some customer service.

It was a fabulous day with sunny skies and moderate temperatures.

I had on a pull over sweater along with a pair of tight army green khakis and tan heels.

My client grabbed his work satchel and we drove over to his office, parking the car in a 3 story parking structure attached to the building.

Exiting the car, we walked across the parking structure to the elevator taking it to the appropriate floor, where my client grabbed some papers off the top of his desk putting them in his satchel. Then we headed back to the elevator.

In the elevator ride down I sensed an opportunity to play.

Knowing that I had little more than a few seconds between floors along with a few seconds more to determine if the doors would open at any of the floors that we were passing, I came to a quick decision.

As the doors closed leaving us alone in the elevator, I reached down to my waist unbuttoning my pants and sliding down the zipper.

As the elevator continued down past the next floor, I quickly pulled my pants down off my hips and gave my client a very quick look of my pale blue bikini panties.

This very simple act resulted in an unexpected yet extremely welcome pulsating sensation between my legs followed by a grab of my nylon covered assets by my client.

As we came to the next floor, I quickly pulled my pants back up almost trapping my client's hand inside of them.

We didn't stop and since the next floor was ours, I flashed him again and then left my pants undone for our walk back to the car.

"Maybe this will give my client some ideas for the ride home." I thought to myself.

By the time we reached the car my pants had slipped far enough down my hips to reveal my hip bones.

I had to be quite careful how I walked. My pants were working their way down my torso with every step.

Thankfully they fit tight enough across my bottom that they were keeping their precarious position around my hips. Talk about hip huggers.

My heart was pounding wondering whether someone would see us walking across the parking lot.

We arrived at the car where I expected my client to either take me to a park as there was one nearby or drive me to a secluded area in the parking structure for a little S & S. (Suck and Swallow)

Instead he opened the door of the car removing a camera from his satchel, then leading me away from the car.

I felt a little like I had been played.

Without saying a word, he took me to a stairwell door about 40 yards away.

I was hoping for a park performance.

My plan didn't involve a stairwell. It certainly didn't involve a parking structure stairwell at his workplace.

I was now a bundle of nerves wondering what I had started and more importantly what my client had in mind for me.

It just didn't make any sense to me because we were at his place of work. My client would never risk doing anything so close to his work. Right?

I was starting to regret all of the teasing that I had been doing. Yet, I realized that I had wanted this, whatever this was going to be.

Inside the stairwell my client turned me towards the stairs leading to the lower floors.

The clanging of my heels on the metal steps echoed throughout the stairwell giving me a sense of foreboding.

I wondered if anyone else could hear my clanging heels.

With each step my pants attempted to escape down my legs.

I had to be careful how I stepped. Heels and hovering pants don't mix that well on stairs.

Why I didn't zip up my pants is probably obvious by now.

Not knowing what was about to happen along with having my pants constantly ready to drop had me on edge sexually, mentally, and emotionally.

My apprehension was growing with every step.

I arrived at the very bottom of the stairwell with my pants still around my hips and my stomach in my throat.

The area was about 12 by 8 feet with a concrete floor and a cinder block wall.

The number B-0 was painted in large red letters on the wall.

Visibly shaking, I looked at my client with a questioning look.

He in turn motioned to me saying, "Since you seem to want me to see your panties I think that you should remove your pants."

We both knew many of the people that worked here. These same people could be close by.

This just didn't seem like the time or the place for me to take off anything. My sense of proper conduct was taking over telling me to keep my pants up.

I was about to voice my concern but the words stuck in my throat.

An exquisite pulsating had started between my legs and was slowly moving to other sensitive areas.

Fully aware of what I was doing, I watched my thumbs hook themselves inside the waistband of my pants and slowly pull the fabric off of my hips.

Then gravity did the rest.

My overwhelming desire to submit had easily trumped my desire to maintain proper conduct.

Standing in a cinder block lined stairway landing with my pants gathered around my shoes brought out my long awaited feeling of vulnerability.

I was in a very masculine setting of metal and concrete adhering to a man's wishes to see me undressed. It seemed almost Freudian.

My internal list for arousal was being checked off one item at a time.

Was I told to strip or had I been stripped? Yes

In so doing had I submitted to someone else's request? Yes

Am I feeling vulnerable? Yes

Am I feeling exposed? Yes

Am I in a public place? Yes

Am I wearing nothing but my scanties? Getting there.

Am I incredibly aroused? Yes, Yes, and Yes

I stood there and stared at my client seeing the little devilish glint in his eyes that told me he was very pleased.

I most certainly had been played.

Although my t-shirt barely reached my navel, I was told to remove it as well.

As I pulled the cotton material up and over my head, all of my senses went into overload.

I was salivating from both sets of lips and my nipples were hard as diamonds.

He then had me step out of my pants and back away towards the far wall.

I watched him gather up my clothes laying them on one of the stairs behind him.

I knew that any chance to cover up quickly had just disappeared.

I felt lightheaded as blood rushed to occupy the more sensual areas of my body.

Every sound above us was magnified in the stairwell.

At one point I was sure that I heard footsteps approaching one of the upper level doors.

I quickly stepped forward to get my clothes, but my path was blocked by my client.

My sexually submissive personality was getting exactly what it had been asking for.

I was going to stay unclothed for as long as my client desired. And by all signs he was in no hurry to let me get dressed.

I stepped back towards the wall and continued to listen, waiting to hear a door open.

Every nerve ending in my body was tingling. My anxiety was palpable as I was sure that either someone that I knew or didn't know was about to see me in just my bra and panties.

When I heard the footsteps fade away the tension went through me like a flush of warm, moist air.

I stood looking at my client with my hand on my hip and a smile on my face.

Snap went the camera recording my pose and obvious enjoyment of my situation for posterity.

There was no doubt that my client had been getting my not so subtle messages and had just been biding his time until the right moment.

By the throbbing between my legs and telltale erection of my nipples, there was no doubt that I was enjoying his twist on our usual game, but at the same time, I kept worrying that our luck was bound to run out.

I did and I didn't want my clothes back. But my desires didn't matter.

My client was busy fulfilling his own desires, which currently was to take my photo while I was undressed in a public stairwell.

When he was done recording my performance, he scooped up my pants and t-shirt and started back up the stairs.

I undoubtedly sounded whiney when I asked for my clothes back. I had no intention of exiting the stairwell wearing just my scanties.

Have you ever walked across a business' parking lot in the full light of day wearing just your undies?

Sounds like one of those dreams with a hidden meaning. Right?

Unless I did something it seemed that I was about to live the dream.

I really, really wanted my clothes back.

Don't get me wrong. The mandated stairwell performance had me vibrating, but I was convinced that my luck at not being discovered by someone was soon to run out.

The odds of not being seen were not in my favor.

We arrived at the level we needed and as my client held the door for me I remained hidden inside the stairwell not willing to move.

I felt that my nervous system had had enough for the day and it was time to be a mom again.

I made one last effort by extending my hand to retrieve my clothes. It was a mistake. My client took a hold of my hand and pulled me out into the open parking lot.

I almost wet my panties, although I can't say whether it was from fear or arousal or both.

My nerves were so alive that the slight change in temperature from the stairwell to the parking lot was felt throughout every pore of my skin.

My entire body knew that I was in a very public place wearing just a demi-cup bra and tiny bikini panties.

At least they matched, which was hardly any consolation.

Suddenly I was a 35 year old married mother of two instead of a client pleasing submissive.

My anxiety and arousal factors were hitting the roof.

I was having a difficult time figuring out how I had gotten into this situation. Worse yet, I had no idea how I was going to get out of it.

My only solution was to stay as close as possible to my client in order to use him as some sort of cover.

Even then I was still exposed on all of my other sides.

I tried to hurry him along, however besides my clothes, he also had the car keys. So I had to continue walking at his pace, which was very, very slow.

I could have demanded my clothes back, but I truly doubted that I would have been listened to. Besides, it was just too sensually perfect for me to feel so exposed.

I was beginning to realize that even as a married mom, it ignited all of the feelings that I crave.

What I thought were two separate personalities weren't at all.

My conservative and sexually repressed upbringing wanted me to believe that my sexual submissiveness was separate from my mom in charge personality.

But here I was walking through a public parking lot wearing just my bra and panties, and my mom in charge was relishing every second despite the continuous feelings of panic.

It didn't help that my client had a firm hold of one of my cheeks, which he used to direct me away from him and more out into the open.

I am never quite sure whether his grabbing my barely covered bottom is a way to remind me that I am just in my undies or if he is just feeling my tush.

Either way it serves to get me more aroused, even when I don't think that this is possible.

Once we arrived at the car I gave my client a good swat on his arm for being so ruthless. He just smiled knowing full well that I was trembling with sexual arousal.

Admittedly I would and could never do anything like this on my own, no matter how aroused or frisky I might feel. It just isn't part of my nature.

However when I am instructed to by my client, all of my candles get lit and off come my clothes.

My nipples were throbbing and the water works between my legs was soaking through the nylon crotch of my panties.

If there exists a stage beyond pre-orgasmic, I was there.

A shudder of pure ecstasy ran through me and I let out a moan.

My client first opened the back door throwing my sweater and pants onto the back seat.

Obviously he wanted me to remain exposed for as long as possible.

At least I could use the car to hide behind.

Finally after what seemed to be another 15 minutes, he opened my door and I was able to slide into the front seat.

I could have easily reached over the back seat to retrieve my clothes, but I was too far gone to worry about a little impropriety or even a major one.

I was back in my dating days when virtually every date ended with me sitting in the car wearing just my undies.

How could I have ever known what these early performances would lead to?

More importantly, how could I have ever known how much I would enjoy all of them?

He started the car and drove it to a secluded corner of the parking structure. Once there my client put his hand on my bare thigh sliding it up to where my heater and humidifier were on full blast.

I was so excited that when he barely touched me between my legs I went into multiple convulsions.

The orgasms rolled through like summer storms: each one as intense as the one before.

When the last one ebbed to a minor tremor and I had a chance to compose myself, I wanted to return the favor in my favorite way.

I knelt on the front seat with my nylon covered bottom facing the side window and provided my client with a most enthusiastic and convincing oral presentation. Gulp. Gulp.

I would ascertain by my client's exclamations of "yes, Yes, YES!" that I had met all of his expectations that day.