Exposed Ch. 02

We were spending our second summer together, which allowed me to wear my bikini swimsuits in front of my husband. (I find it easier to call him my husband despite the fact that we were not married at the time.) Although my choice of swimsuits at the time covered much more of me than they do now, I loved how he looked at me. I could see in his eyes that he enjoyed seeing me exposed, as his gaze would linger on all of my unclothed body parts. It gave me a tingly feeling between my legs making me feel very sexy and more importantly, vulnerable.

On one of these summer days we walked to one of the Great Lakes, which was only a few blocks from my house. We found ourselves sitting along the breakwater on a stack of boulders that had been artificially piled up to preserve the beach.

It was a beautiful sunny day with a nice warm breeze coming from the lake.

I rolled my shorts up my legs to expose my skin to the rays of the sun.

My husband had an odd look on his face as we sat there. It was as if he were trying to decide whether to do something or not.

I looked at him and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

His response wasn't what I expected.

He replied, "I want you to take your shorts off."

I wasn't sure that I had heard him correctly.

He was asking me to strip outdoors in a public place.

I scoffed at his suggestion reverting to the belief that a proper young lady doesn't strip to her panties outdoors where anyone might see her.

He tried to reason with me by saying, "No one will know. It will look like you are waering a swimsuit."

I was wearing nothing that looked like a swimsuit bottom. My panties were bikini briefs in a white puckered cotton material.

They looked exactly like what they were i.e. bikini style panties.

It would be quite obvious to anyone who saw me that I wasn't wearing a swimming suit.

So why did my stomach feel so quesey over the thought of it?

My mind insisted that it was something that you just don't do. However deep within I could feel the stirrings of excitement over the prospect of being so vulnerable.

My husband continued to encourage me and I continued to resist, but I was weakening. My conscious mind refuted his requests to expose myself in such a public place, however my subconscious reveled in the thought of feeling so unprotected and unveiled.

I really liked how he looked at me in my swimming suits. And the few times that he saw me in my panties, I enjoyed it immensely.

But this was preposterous. I proper young woman just doesn't do this sort of thing.

Sure he had seen me in my panties, but it was always in a place where we were alone. Not outdoors and certainly not in public. I just couldn't do this, but why did the thought of it intrigue me so much?

It felt so wrong and so right all at the same time.

As he continued to encourage me, I said, "Well, I will just undo my button and zipper to get some sun on my stomach." I knew deep down that once I began the process of undoing my shorts, it would be just a matter of time before I found myself taking them completely off.

I was trembling when I reached down and unbuttoned my shorts. I could feel his eyes on me as I watched myself pull my zipper down slowly so as not to reveal too much.

My husband continued with his exhortations for me to remove my shorts. "After all, we are all alone. No one will see you."

The funny feeling in my stomach just wouldn't go away. I had never had anyone ask me to strip for them. It felt as if I had no control or say in the matter, and at the same time I felt totally in control.

Wouldn't a normal person simply laugh and say "I bet you would," to a request to strip, and then do nothing?

I really didn't understand this at the time but I wanted to allow him control over my inhibitions. In this way, I had an excuse to be unrestrainted.

After all, "He told me to."

My shorts were now open revealing the top of my cotton bikini panties. The parts of me that were still covered were twitching in a very pleasant way.

"Come on. Let's see." He exhorted me to show more, so I slowly took a hold of the sides of my shorts and slipped them a little further down my hips. Now my panties were visible almost to my crotch and the little spasms of excitement intensified.

I looked at him as he stared at my open shorts. I liked the look on his face. A look of pure satisfaction and pleasure.

The same look that intoxicated me when I was alone in his dorm room so many months ago.

It made me feel sexy; very sexy.

"They look just like your swimming suit," was his response, and even though I knew that my panties looked like panties, I lifted my bottom up off of the rock that I was sitting on and slid my shorts down and off of my legs.

As my shorts made their arduous journey down my lower torso, a very specific kind of feeling invaded my body.

I was aroused. I mean sexually aroused.

This wasn't like anyother feelings of excitement that I had experienced. It was much more intense and almost overwhelming.

I reveled in the complexity of thoughts and feelings that passed through me as I was being encouraged to strip. It felt naughty, bad, shameful, slutty, exciting, daring, and arousing.

Here I was basically in the backyard of my neighborhood sitting in my white bikini panties. The thin material easily showed my dark tuft of pubic hair making it very obvious that this was not a swimsuit bottom.

It was my underwear. That article of clothing that commonly remains covered, particularly outdoors and especially in a public place.

And yet I made no effort to cover myself up.

I was doing as I was asked to do. I was experiencing the act of putting myself on exhibition.

Some people get off on being naked in public, as the thought of being seen without any clothes on excited them.

I didn't exactly realize it at the time, but my excitement derived from wearing my scanties in a public place.

I suppose that you could analyze it as more infantile based or a safer form of exhibitionism.

It really doesn't matter as this is what excites me; and right at this moment I was very excited.

The tingling sensation that coursed through my lower extremities was intensifying and intoxicating.

I found myself constantly looking up and down the beach hoping that no one was about to come upon me. And yet at the same time the idea of being discovered unclothed made my nipples throb with excitement.

My husband smiled as if he knew all along that I had this hidden desire to exhibit myself.

I found myself handing him my shorts. So why didn't I keep them by my side in case I needed to cover up quickly? The sense; that he was in control; that I couldn't quickly get dressed if I needed to, only added to my arousal.

I had subconsciously committed to being seen in my panties.

My suppressed tendencies towards submission and exhibitionism had been unveiled at the same time that I had unveiled myself.

As we sat and talked, I felt the warmth of the sun radiating over my crotch. It all felt so liberating. I can't quite explain, but I felt that my inner desires for vulnerability and exposure had been uncovered just as I was uncovered.

I became so immersed in the feelings of arousal that I never noticed the group of college students approaching the very area that we were occupying.

A sense of panic overtook me and I quickly extended my hand for my shorts.

Whether my husband had any intention of returning them to me I will never know, as it was too late. The two males and two females were climbing over the large boulders right behind us and within seconds were taking their seats within 10 feet of us.

They looked over at us saying "Hi". All of them glanced at my bikini briefs without any obvious reaction, however the entire time that I remained seated they would discreetly glance in my direction looking directly at my panties.

My own reaction sent a flush of crimson color to my cheeks. I knew that the longer we stayed the more obvious it would become that I was sitting in my panties.

I was surprised to find that the initial rush of anxiety as they approached us coupled with the feeling of embarrassment only added to my arousal. My impulse was to retrieve my shorts from my husband, get dressed, and to extricate myself from the situation vowing to never let something like this happen again. Instead I was glued to my spot trembling with excitement and embarrassment unable and/or unwilling to alter the situation.

My heart was beating out of my chest and I had to force myself to take deep breaths in order to relax.

As a child I remember being teased whenever someone could see my underwear. It ingrained itself inside of me that you should always keep yourself covered.

But I was now attracted to a young man that wanted me uncovered; uncovered for his pleasure.

And I liked how it made me feel; to accede to his bidding; to unveil myself, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

My husband was the first to grow a bit uncomfortable telling me that it was time to go. I am not sure why, although I suspect that it was about how much attention I was attracting from the other young men.

After all I was sitting close by them wearing nothing from my waist down other than my undies.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do. Do I stand up providing my audience with a full view of my panties or to discreetly slide my shorts back up my legs in a sitting position leaving them guessing as to my attire? I choose the latter method to cover myself and when my shorts were back in place rose up and clambered down the boulders.

I found that my excitement derived purely from the sense of being vulnerable and exposed and not from any overtly exhibitionistic act.

I was so aroused by everything that had happened that day that I spent a good part of my bedtime vibrating with sexual arousal.

I found that my excitement derived more from the feelings of vulnerablity and exposure than from any overt act of exhibitonism.

I liked feeling sexy and uninhibited, but knew that I couldn't act this way on my own.

I required someone to encourage me, and that someone was my future husband.

As I had done so often before while alone in bed, I slid my right hand inside my pajama bottoms and across the warm skin of my lower abdomen pushing my fingers against my very swollen lower lips until they discreetly parted allowing my slick kernel of pleasure to present itself for further exploration.

I was a bit surprised by my state of arousal quickly reaching orgasm.

Lying there in that pleasant state of post orgasmic bliss, I vowed to shop for panties that better represented the young woman that I wanted to be.

If I was going to be asked to strip in the future, then I wanted to give my future husband a show.