Task Number 3

byE_Harley©

I should have known that my willingness to perform certain assigned tasks might lead to more. Am I complaining? Certainly not, as it has awakened my suppressed desire to take dares along with exhibitionistic changes. Mr. Barclay and I had a bit of a falling out. Not because he isn't a wonderful person, but it seemed that he was much to busy to be able to create tasks for me that perfectly suited my temperament and desires. If you think that giving someone a task to perform is easy, you would be wrong. Unless the person that you are assigning tasks to is a complete submissive, which essentially means that they will do anything to please, you need to really try to understand the person. This takes a lot of time and insight. To further complicate things, if I am the female performing the task, you get to also deal with my many insecurities and excuses as to why certain things just can't be done. In more simple words, I am not easy to deal with when it comes to assigning the perfect task.

Mr. Barclay did an admiral job with my first two tasks and I would highly recommend him to anyone wanting a little excitement in their lives.

So to move on: a Professor Nancy who teaches at a small University recently contacted me. She wrote to tell me how much she enjoyed my stories particularly the true ones. As we continued to exchange emails the topic of tasks came up and I now have another accepted performance to conduct.

I am to perform a lap dance on my husband in a public park requiring a park bench and a light pole.

We were about to go on vacation, which along with the temperatures dropping daily caused my window of opportunity to be closing fast. I talked to my husband about having a little surprise for him the week before our vacation asking him whether he had some time after work. He responded that he had quite a few tasks (an interesting choice of words, I thought to myself) that he needed to get done before we left. I cajoled and coerced using all of my womanly wiles to have him leave the office with me Tuesday night after which he could return for whatever needed to be done. Now since I had just lived out one of my deepest fantasies with him spanking me in his office, it really wasn't as much of a problem as it may be making it sound.

Before my husband was promoted and transferred to another city, we spent quite a few evenings and weekends together where I was his personal entertainer, so to speak. Where do you think all of the photos of myself outdoors in my undies came from? Check out my "The Panty Perils of Me" series under my other pen name, HarleyFatboy1, on Literotica. However his promotion and our move away from our usual and safe haunts certainly put a damper on our extracurricular activities. Thanks to Mr. Barclay, I have become a bit more adventurous lately.

Before I had realized it Tuesday was upon me. The forecast for the evening was to be free of clouds, but a low of 42; not exactly the kind of weather that I like to show off in. I was apprehensive about being too cold to do much of anything outdoors, much less a lap dance. Oh, did I forget to add that my lap dance was to be performed in panties and heels only. That's right; topless. Yikes!

As usual my morning routine was pretty much set in stone. Once my children and husband had left for school and work respectively, I showered and got myself ready as well. I decided to wear a camisole under a white with navy blue striped blouse and a pair of navy blue lightweight wool pants. Underneath I put on a pair of pale sky blue nylon bikini panties with white lace appliqués in each corner on the front. I liked how they accented my hipbones sticking above the light blue nylon. The back was nylon and would provide a nice slippery surface for my upcoming lap dance. A pair of 4 inch tan high heels completed my outfit. Oh, I almost forgot. I am cheating a bit as I also put on knit thigh high leggings to keep at least some of my bare flesh from freezing.

I really didn't think about it much at work other than the forecasted temperature. The majority of my previous unclothed excursions outdoors where in the summer time or very early fall. Although I have removed a jacket and unbuttoned a shirtdress well above my waist outdoors with snow still on the ground, this time I was required to be topless and pantless. As the day wound down, my thoughts began to focus more on my evening task. It took only seconds for me to feel two little hard nubs of flesh poking against my silk camisole. "Well, it seems that a small part of me is excited about the evening," I laughed to myself.

Then I found myself thinking about this entire process of performing tasks as given to me by essentially complete strangers. Why would a logical and seemingly sane person do something like I was about to do? It occurred to me that the simple reason was to be found deep down inside my psyche. I simply wanted to act out again. I wanted to feel sexy, desired, naughty, and daring again. Just the thought of the reasons why sent a bolt of electricity through my body; a most pleasant feeling bolt of electricity. It settled itself right between my legs causing me to squirm and squeeze my legs together. I am sure that if anyone had walked by my cubicle right at this moment, they would have noticed the far away look in my eyes as I slowly and firmly rubbed my thighs together. I had to force myself back to the present or I might have found myself nearing an orgasm in the middle of the afternoon while sitting in my cubicle at work. I had already given my coworkers plenty of reason to talk about me when my last task required me to drop my skirt while getting up from my chair to leave our department's monthly meeting. Openly orgasming would have certainly have added to my reputation.

The other reason that occurred to me, if I can get back on topic, was that I virtually had nothing to lose. I could either perform the task or not. Although I was in communication with Mr. Barclay and now Professor Nancy, they weren't standing outside my door making sure that I did as I was told. I had complete and total control over my actions. What became a challenge for my taskmasters was to find the right task that activated my latent desire to show off. What they might not have known is that once it was found and communicated to me, I couldn't think of anything else. It dominated my thoughts for days until the time of my performance arrived. It put me on an edge between abject fear and anxiety and the sexual excitement of wanting to be erotically daring. Just imagine yourself being on the cusp of a panic attack and an orgasm at the same time, and you will have an idea of how I felt.

So here I am sitting at my desk in my cubicle with two very erect nipples and a warm spot between my legs. I know that I could just simply not perform the task of doing a scantily clad lap dance outdoors in a public setting. And yet I can't stop myself. Having someone assign me a task to do something that I secretly crave to do is virtually the same as giving me permission to misbehave. I find it impossible to refuse. This is the kind of anxiety inducing excitement that I have craved for over 20 years now.

As the day draws to a close my nervous energy is taking over. I have a dry throat; my legs are shaking; and my stomach is full of butterflies.

I gather my purse and coat and head for the door knowing that my task is now underway. It is difficult for me to perform something as simple as saying "Good night" to my co-workers as I have something else on my mind. I put my coat on and walk outside to the parking ramp. "Hmmm, it isn't quite as cold as I thought. Maybe I won't need to hurry my lap dance after all."

I reach my car and climb inside, starting it and turning the heat on high. Then I just sit there while every pore in my body vibrates in anticipation. I watch as most of my co-workers drive away and when I feel that I am as on my own as I probably will be, I slip my arms and shoulders out of my coat letting it bunch up on the seat behind me. A long look around lets me know that no one is close by, so with trembling hands and uncontrollable fingers I unbutton my blouse completely slipping it off and throwing it into the back seat. With just my camisole to cover my throbbing nubs, I reach down to the front of my pants taking a hold of my belt buckle and undoing it. I slip the front button out of its buttonhole and slide my zipper down. Another long look around and I lift my bottom up off of the car seat while taking a hold of the waistband of my pants pulling them down my legs. The bare flesh on my upper thighs is red and full of goose bumps. It isn't that I am cold, but for god's sake, I am stripping down to my panties while sitting in my car at work. My coat is right behind me so in a moment's notice I can cover myself up and appear to anyone outside that I am simply waiting for my car to warm up. How would they ever suspect that something else is warming up quite nicely?

I slip out of my heels pulling my pants off of my legs and immediately feel the difference in temperature on my exposed flesh as well as a developing throbbing sensation between my legs. I can't help myself as I push my enclosed fist firmly against my crotch emitting an almost silent moan to myself. As I open my eyes I see my manager heading towards his car making a path that will have him pass right by me. "Just be calm and act like you do every other day," I tell myself. Quickly I slip my arms back into my coat and pull it up over my shoulders wrapping it tightly over my exposed legs and sky blue panties.

I squeeze my thighs to together allowing the resulting exquisite sensation to flow through my lower erogenous zone. This time I make sure that I keep my eyes open and focused on my manager despite my desire to touch myself in a most impure manner.

We wave to each other while I pray that he doesn't come over to talk to me. Ever since I " accidentally" dropped my skirt in our monthly meeting he has taken a special interest in me. Finding me sitting in my car wearing just a camisole and bikini panties would certainly grow his interest into an erection. Did I just really think that?

I am sitting in my car barely dressed imagining my manager staring at me with an erection. And now he is heading towards my car.

So with my pants still bunched at my feet obstructing my access to the accelerator and brakes, I shift my car into reverse and start to back out. The movement of my legs causes my coat to slip open right up to my sky blue crotch. Despite my mental meanderings, I don't intend on getting close enough for my manager to see anything other than my head and shoulders. God, the vibration between my legs is becoming intense. I offer a smile and with a wave of my hand I mouth, "Gotta go," to him as I drive away.

Once down the block I am able to pull my pants up off of the floor and throw them in back to join my blouse. Now on to my husband's office. I quickly call him to let him know that I am on my way before pulling away from the curb. As I am heading across town I realize that my camisole needs to join my pants and blouse in the back seat. My instructions are to perform my lap dance topless.

The park where I am planning my performance is on the way, so a quick stop allows me to shed the last remaining article of clothing that covers my upper torso. Back on goes my coat and within 10 minutes I am parked outside my husband's office. A quick call to let him know that I have arrived and he tells me, "fifteen minutes." Ok, I will have to admit that sometimes my anxiety over these situations can turn ugly. I am sitting outside my husband's building in the drop off area with the front door only 15 feet away. As people stream out of his building making their way home, I am covered by a pair of navy blue knit thigh highs, a teeny tiny sky blue nylon bikini panty that is finding its way up my cheeks, with a car coat to cover what is barely covered. I am not in the mood for "fifteen minutes."

And besides everything that can be described as an erogenous zone in my body is vibrating.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, however as I said before, I can't stop myself. This represents everything that I am addicted to, including the anger and impatience.

I slip both hands between my legs as I am suddenly feeling cold. These are my nerves kicking in to ask me if I really know what I am doing. If there was a reason to answer, I would say, "Absolutely not, but I want to anyway."

Then there he is, tall, handsome, well dressed, with that smile on his face that I love. My anger and frustration evaporate to be replaced by that sexual excitement that I wrote about previously. I can feel my lower lips starting to swell as my little kernel becomes more prominent inside my panties. I am feeling quite horny.

I slide my coat slightly open just as he opens the car door. His eyes naturally see my bare thighs and I see the delight on his face. "So what do you have planned for me," he asks. "You'll see soon enough," I respond.

Now my nerves are really kicking in as I head to the park. Very soon I am about to be rubbing my nylon-covered booty on my husband's crotch completely topless, outdoors, and in a public park. I actually can't wait.

We get to the park with my heart in my throat. Although the sun is setting, it still is light enough to be seen from the street. I take my husband's hand and lead him down the park path. The park is very narrow, so most areas can be seen from the street. I lead him to a park bench at the very back of the park bordered by the neighboring houses hoping that no one is watching the well dressed couple (OK, OK I am not exactly dressed, but do have on a nice coat) taking a leisurely walk almost in their back yard.

I am shaking uncontrollably in anticipation of what I am about to do and wondering if I really have the nerve. Ever since we moved to a completely new city, I have been trying to find my bearings in more ways than one. I have found that writing erotica has kept my latent urges at bay, but ever since Mr. Barclay suggested that I perform some tasks for him, all my carefully constructed barriers to exhibitionism have been obliterated.

I tell my husband to sit down and once he is settled, I start to dance in front of him so that my coat opens up revealing most of my thigh high covered legs. I love how he smiles when I am in one of my moods. It becomes the perfect encouragement for my exhibitions. I can feel the cold air on my exposed extremities, but everything contained in my teeny, tiny panties seems to be toasty warm. Hmmm, I wonder why that would be?

I don't know whether you have ever tried to dance suggestively without any music. It isn't that simple even for someone like me who enjoys moving their hips at the slightest sound of notes lilting in the air. I can tell by the expression of my husband's face that I am doing well enough and I find myself a little less nervous and ready to perform my task.

I take a deep breath glancing quickly towards the nearest house and the nearby road for any sign of activity and with my back turned towards my husband I let my coat slide completely off of my body. I can feel the nylon lining caress my back as it makes its way towards the concrete walkway of the park. The golden glow of the setting sun lights up my bare skin making me feel a bit goddess like. Even my sky blue panties have golden tinge to them.

Then the cold air assaults my body. My nipples, which I didn't think could be any more erect, literally pop out of each breast aching from the combination of cold air and my own excitement.

My husband lets out a little gasp as I bend forward doing my best impression of Miley Cyrus twerking.

Despite the cold and goose bumps that have formed on my goose bumps, I am loving every moment of my exposure. I press my nylon-covered bottom into my husband's crotch and am not disappointed to find that his telescope has become fully extended. I am bending forward with my hands on my thighs while rubbing my nylon-covered cheeks directly on his erection. I can feel him shift his lower body meeting my motion backward with his own motion forward. Despite the cold my lower lips are swelling and the area heater between my legs seems to be leaking.

I am at that point that I get to where I am in my own little fantasy world. I have no desire to see who might be watching or even care anymore. I just want to stay in this moment when I feel so extremely sexy and aroused.

Just over my shoulder and about 20 feet away is a swingset with a jungle gym. I consider sauntering over to it and using the metal uprights as my personal pole to grind and slide my private area on. Thankfully I realize that due to the temperature, I might not so much as slide but find myself stuck rather embarrassingly to the bare metal.

"This is 911, what is your emergency?"

I decide to defer to when the leaves are again green on the trees.

I step away from my coat now bunched on the park path and turn to face my husband. I let my hands explore all of my places that I know he would like to. When they find themselves between my legs, I can't help but to let out a little moan of satisfaction and supplication. I am no longer a wife, mother, or supervisor of a call center. I have become my own perception of a sexually charged and desirable woman. I walk towards my husband and climb onto the park bench placing my high-heeled feet on either side of his thighs. My crotch is virtually in his face and I start to grind on him. He takes a hold of my cheeks with both hands and licks my slick panty covered crotch. Another moan escapes my lips.

I am getting very, very aroused.

I step back down off of the bench pushing my tiny pen lights one at a time into his lips begging for his bites and kisses. While he is complying with my desires, I reach down to unzip his pants wanting to free the firm round flesh that was poking me earlier.

Only his common sense prevents me from performing a very lewd but pleasant act of fellatio as he says quietly, "Elizabeth, no, Elizabeth." Then a little more firmly, Elizabeth, not here."

I am on the verge of orgasm and am finding it very difficult to calm down, but he is right to stop me.

I stand straight up for the first time noticing the car traffic passing on the street not more than 200 feet away. Every pore in my body is still vibrating with anticipation crying out for release. I want to act out. I want to be sexual. I want to orgasm. But my husband is right. He takes me in his arms and with his coat open wraps me in its warmth. I love how it feels to be so exposed; wearing just a pair of sky blue panties, thigh highs, and heels.

He tells me that my skin is ice cold, but all I feel is the glow of sexual energy coursing through my body.

He bends down picking my coat up off of the ground and helps me back into it.

As we walk hand in hand back to the car, he tells me not to worry, as "We aren't quite finished yet." I smile knowing full well what that means.

This time he gets into the driver's seat and I sit in the passenger seat. As he starts the car turning on the heater, I feel his left hand slide between the folds of my coat making its way to my own very intimate heater. It doesn't take long for me to be grinding myself against his exploring fingers with my eyes closed and my mouth open wide. My panties are soaked and easily slide across his hand. I hear myself plead, "Oh God! Oh, God!" as the first spasms of my long overdue orgasm shake my entire body uncontrollably. He does tell me quite often that I orgasm very sexily. I will have to take his word for it as my mind is certainly somewhere else when I come.

Finally I am able to calm down from my high and join the normal world again.

As he pulls up to the front of his office building giving me a big kiss before he gets out, I promise him another exhibition, but this time I plan on being in his office under his desk wearing not much more than I was today.

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byE_Harley© 1 comments/ 16234 views/ 3 favorites

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