All Women are ExhibitionistsbyHarleyRiderX©
Tags: Romance; Loving Wives; Interracial Love; Light BDSM; Mature; Group Sex.
Author's Note: This is my entry to the 2017 Valentine's Day Story Contest. I have less detailed sex scenes up front for character development. As the story continues the sex scenes will get much more detailed. If you like the story, please vote.
My love and her gift
Valentine's Day is all about true love---and that is what I had.
Regretfully my love had to go be with God or the universe or into nothingness depending on what you believe.
This is my story...
"All women are exhibitionists. And all men are voyeurs," I said, inserting myself into their conversation.
The look of shock on each of their faces was incredible.
Mary got quite wide eyed behind her glasses. She was the oldest and by far the most conservative of the three women that worked for me in the small insurance office I owned. She'd worked for me the longest, 9 years now, and had never, not once, heard me make a remark in regard to a private conversation they were having.
Janet, the buxom and bubbly blonde who was in the midst of drinking her diet coke actually choked on it and began a coughing fit.
Kimmy, the 19 year old that I'd hired (over a year ago as a temp) just froze and kept looking back and forth between the women to see what they were going to do.
I guess a little background is in order.
Chapter 1. Cupid's Arrow
It was early in the spring semester. Cold, icy, wet. We were both sophomores. We went to a large university and I'd never seen her before the first day of class that semester.
I was smitten and fascinated by her. I was pretty good with women but with her I couldn't even work up the nerve to say hi. I started hanging out at the university coffee shop before class because the location of our lecture hall required everyone to walk by. Then I would follow her in and I would always sit one row behind her, a seat or two off to the side, and spend the majority of class just drinking in her beauty. She was one of those American 'girl next door' women who completely light up a room with their clean lines and engaging personality.
My love was 5 feet and 5 inches tall and between 115 and 120 pounds. She was a strawberry blonde with the most beautiful hazel eyes. Sometimes I would look at her and swear they were light brown and other times they had this beautiful green brown color. I could, and did, spend days just looking into them.
Her body was simply perfect. Not the classic hourglass, but classic all American girl. Up top she was a large B cup or small C cup. Her ass was just slightly larger than perfectly proportioned to her breasts and it was unbelievably toned. Her arms and thighs had amazing definition. Genetics for sure. She did light yoga but not near enough to give her the toned athletic look she had. And she loved to eat. All the men and women who were her friends, including me, often remarked how we hated her for her fast running metabolism. She'd often reply with a smile and ask, "Soooo, enough about that, what's for dessert?
She had a perfectly symmetrical face with a nose that was just a hair too big. It too was perfectly straight with cute little nostrils. Her mouth and lips were sized just right. She was almost always smiling, which revealed straight and white teeth. Her jaw and chin were, of course, perfect. Obviously I'm biased, but it wasn't just me that recognized her beauty. She'd been asked to model no less than three times by major modeling agencies. But she wanted nothing to do with them---it was a completely foreign life-style to her and one she wanted no part of.
It was more than a month after I'd first seen her. Valentine's Day. It had taken me this long to work up the nerve to say hi and ask if I could sit with her during class and take her out for a coffee afterwards. I kept telling myself that I would regret forever my lack of nerve if I didn't try.
I was in my usual place at the window of the coffee shop when she went scurrying by. It was a very cold windy morning with the temperature well below freezing. It was obvious she was in a hurry to get inside.
"Shit!" I thought as I jumped up to put on my coat. I struggled into it and pushed my way through the crowd and went after her but she was well out in front of me.
I didn't want to yell at her to wait so I jogged to catch up. The ground was icy and I could just see myself falling on my ass. I was almost to her when she started up the twenty or so concrete stairs to the doors that would let her into the lecture hall.
The university was really good about double salting the stairs around the campus during freezing conditions and today was no different. "Thank God." I thought as I got onto firmer footing because of the increased salt. I'll pass her up at the top of the stairs and then gallantly move ahead to open the door for her and say hi.
She slipped right near the top stairs. I saw her foot hit the patch of ice. She later swore she felt like she'd been solidly pushed right in the center of her chest.
There is no doubt she would have been really hurt if I hadn't caught her. I just kept right on going, carrying her up to the top. She was light as a feather.
Her beautiful green brown eyes were huge with fear and then relief with the realization she was safe.
"Hi," I said as I smiled at her while setting her down on her feet.
"You just saved my life."
"So I guess that means I can at least get a date out of you?"
She slowly looked me up and down and then smiled and said, "Well, maybe one."
A month later, March 14th, we were madly in love. But on that day she told me that she was going back to live the rest of her life in her small hometown just as soon as she graduated.
"It's my home." she'd said, "And I've never wanted to be anywhere else. I'm only going to college because I promised mother I would."
I can still remember my reply, "Well I'm going to see the world. I've had the wanderlust since I can remember and I'm going to see it all. Life's too short to be in a place where you already know what you're going to see around the next corner."
She'd stuck her hand out and said, "Deal. No long term commitments, just honesty and friendship while we pass this way together."
As I shook her hand I'd smiled and said back to her, "Uh, I hope sex isn't out of the equation?"
"Oh no." she'd said with a smile and that was the first day we made love.
Neither one of us were virgins but we were both inexperienced. That changed quickly as we just couldn't get enough of each other. Our love was like the kind you read and dream about. We just fit. We knew, without any doubt at all that we could tell each other anything and trust each other completely. It made for a great relationship and GREAT sex.
Once we knew how good sex could be we decided that once a month, on alternating months, we would each be able to fulfill a fantasy. The first thing we decided though was that neither one of us was comfortable sharing the other or risking our reputation or catching a disease---so all our fantasies involving strangers or group sex would have to be acted out. We had so much fun and I've never laughed so hard or loved so much.
Our parting two and a half years later was horrible. We were both crying and both equally determined to live the way our childhood dreams were telling us to live. We agreed to completely break contact with each other and we encouraged each other to find someone else and get on with our lives.
The very last thing she did was stick out her hand and say, "Thank you, thank you for the honesty and friendship as we passed this way together."
As I shook her hand and weakly smiled I'd said, "And the sex too I hope?"
She started crying again, turned and ran away.
Not four months later all the wanderlust I'd had was completely burned out with the sadness of not having her with me. One day in Thailand I found myself actively searching the internet for job opportunities in her home town. I knew then what I had to do.
I'd majored in business and had always been gifted with the numbers. One of those ubiquitous "locally owned and operated" insurance franchises was up for sale and had been on the market for some time. When I ran the numbers I couldn't figure out why no one had bought it. Still don't know. Fate I guess.
The second hardest thing I've ever done in my life, next to burying my love eight years later, was move to her small home town and hide from her while I learned how to be an insurance agent and business owner. Chuck was the kind older man I was buying the agency from.
Without his help I couldn't have done it. Chuck, and his wife Rita, had known my love since the day she was born. Small towns are like that. Within a day of my arrival I'd already spilled the beans on what I was doing and how I wanted to keep it a secret until I was sure I could make it and provide for her. They were delighted to be a part of my plan and convinced me to move out of the cheap hotel I was in and live with them. They have a small spread a couple of miles out of town, which minimized my chance of being seen. Luckily, I also had to spend a number of weeks out of state at the main headquarters of the insurance franchise to learn all their rules and regulations.
Until I showed up and they realized what was wrong, Chuck and Rita were quite concerned about my love. They had watched her come home from college each summer and each holiday positively aglow with enthusiasm and life.
I guess a note here is in order. My love and I had agreed that as our relationship was to be nothing permanent we wouldn't ever meet each other's family. In her case, just her mother as her father had died when she was 10 and she was an only child.
The summer after college when she'd come back home it was obvious that she was miserable though she "put on a brave front," Rita said.
I won't go into all the details about learning the business and knowing I could make it work. The day Chuck officially sold me the business was one of my happiest. The day he introduced me to the town was and always will be the happiest day of my life.
Chuck announced to all his customers, practically the whole damn town, that he had finally sold his agency and was having a party to celebrate his retirement and introduce the new owner of the business. Rita personally contacted my love and told her how disappointed Chuck would be if she didn't make his retirement party. Rita wisely said nothing at all about the new owner and my love didn't even ask.
"She's just lifeless." Rita told me, "She used to be so curious about everything."
"Will she show up? It will be horrible if she doesn't show up!"
Rita just looked at me and said, "We do our duty in small towns. No matter how sad she is she won't miss this when I have personally asked her to attend."
Sure enough I saw her as I peeked out through the curtains of the high school auditorium where we were having the retirement party and my introduction. I could see my love sitting near the front trying to look interested as Chuck droned on and on about his career and then on and on about how excited he was about his retirement. Then he started going on and on about all of their future plans. He knew he was driving me crazy and still to this day teases me about it. Finally he started talking about what a great guy the new owner was and asked me to come out.
When he said my name my love's head jerked up and as soon as she saw me she burst into tears and came running up on the stage and threw herself at me. After a stunned silence, the whole crowd started laughing and cheering.
I don't really remember anything else until quite a while later when I was introduced to her beaming mother who simply said, "So you're the one. I am so glad to meet you." She looked at her beaming daughter who had my arm clutched tight and said, "And I'm so very glad to have my daughter back."
Six years later her mother died of a heart attack. That same week we found out my love had cancer. We'd been trying for about a year to get pregnant but assumed it was due to the stress of our moving the previous year to a beautiful house with 10 acres of land outside of town. It was her dream home. She'd fallen in love with it as a little girl and had told the owners she was going to live there one day. I wanted to live there for the huge well-built barn so I would have a place to keep and work on the gazillion cars and motorcycles I wanted to buy.
When the over 80 year old owners finally decided to sell they didn't even put it on the market but called and said they would sell it to us at fair market price. In reality they sold it to us well under that price. We spent half a year updating it with modern safe wiring and a more open floor plan. When we finally went in for fertility tests because she wasn't getting pregnant, despite lots of trying, her ovarian cancer was diagnosed.
It was a really rough year. But we made it through and life was good and we were beginning to talk about adoption when my love started having back pain. Not bad pain, just discomfort. Stupid people that we are we didn't even think about cancer and she never mentioned it during her annual check up---because hey, everyone gets lower back pain. What's worse is they called two days later and told her that her blood work got accidently discarded by a new employee so she needed to come in and get it redrawn. Other than the back pain she felt great so she never got around to going back in for another draw as they asked her. When she finally went in six months later to see her doctor about the back pain there was nothing they could do.
She lasted another 8 months. We had a great time fitting all life had to offer into the moments we got and made the absolute most of each day. We laughed and cried and loved each other like crazy. We thanked God. We thanked God for putting us in each other's path and granting us the time we did have. We swore we wouldn't be bitter about our time together not being as long as we wanted. I'm very proud that we both maintained that lack of bitterness and I know I will be with my love again.
Eight months after the realization her cancer had returned it was like she just went over an edge. One minute she was fighting the cancer like she always did and the next day she just looked at me and said, "I need to go to the hospice." A week later she died in my arms.
One of the very last things she said to me the day she died was, "Promise me you will find other women to love. Promise me you won't give up living."
I looked at her with shock and said, "How can you even say that! I don't WANT anyone else. I don't WANT to live without you."
She just weakly smiled and said, "And I don't want to die right now but it's going to happen anyway. We've already discussed our complete faith that we'll meet again according to God's plan. Now promise me you will find others to love or leave and let me die alone."
I could never refuse her and I would never leave her. We both knew it. So I promised her and climbed into the bed with her and held her close. "Thank you my love," she said. And then she died.
As I grew my business I hired good looking women to work for me. This was a conscious decision and fully supported by my love. She knew I would look and fantasize but never cheat on her and she knew it was just good business sense. She would tease me mercilessly as I would fuck her brains out when I'd come home with a hard on.
"Come on big boss, fuck your little Mary," my love would say as she met me thrust for thrust. "Fuck me here in the church vestibule. You know how horny I get when I go to church." This fantasy drove us both wild as we knew Mary was a regular church goer.
She was the first woman I hired. Mary. I was 24 years old and had owned my business for a year. Mary was 31 and looked like a Southern Baptist preacher's wife. She never wore pants. It was mainly long dresses with high necklines. She was very conservative in both dress and demeanor.
Mary had medium length brown hair and a very cute librarian appearance. She was about five foot eight inches tall with a long and lanky figure. Small, probably B cup breasts, and what was undoubtedly a great ass. Like my love's it was slightly larger proportionately than her breasts. Mary is nearsighted so she wears glasses over her doe like brown eyes. When I hired her, the larger frame hexagon glasses were all the rage and that is what she had. Eight years later she is still wearing them, which only adds to her conservative and slightly out dated look.
My love bought a high-necked blouse and long skirt that was exactly like one of Mary's. When she was in a playful mood I'd come home to find her sitting at her desk wearing the "Mary" outfit.
On days like this I would play the demanding boss and force her to take off her clothes and get on her knees to suck my cock. At first she would act like she didn't enjoy any of the demands I placed on her.
"Mary, you are a good employee. Good employees do EXACTLY what they're told don't they?"
"Yes sir, I guess so."
"I said turn around. Did we not just confirm that good employees do EXACTLY as they are told!?"
My love, acting as Mary, would slowly turn and respond in a quiet and submissive voice, "But sir, I..."
"No buts!" I would interrupt. "Well, one butt---yours. It's mine to do with as I like. That's what it means to be the boss. I get to do what I like with my employees—--especially the ones who keep screwing up! You do want to keep your job don't you?"
"Oh sir! I have to keep my job or I won't be able to donate to the church."
"That would be a sin wouldn't it? And the church is quite clear about obeying your employer isn't it?"
"But I thought I had to obey my husband, not my employer?"
"It's both you silly girl. Obviously you haven't paid enough attention at church or here at work so I'm just going to have to have you practice obeying. Now pull up your skirt."
"What! I couldn't do that!"
"That's it, you're fired. I've had enough of a clueless employee who just can't do as she's told."
"NO! Please No. I'll do whatever you say, just please don't fire me!"
"Then pull up your damn skirt! Not one more word out of you, do you understand? Just nod your head if you understand."
My love was quite the actress and it was always a real look of fear as she would sashay her hips around as she pulled up her skirt and invariably she would have on very sexy undergarments.
"You slut! Does your husband know you're dressing so provocatively?!" She would tearfully shake her head and then hang it down in shame.
"And the church! What would Father John think of you wearing crotch-less panties!" I would run my hand along her slit and of course she would be soaking wet. "And you're leaking you're so wet. You really are a slut aren't you?"
"No, no sir, I, I just like to feel pretty under my clothes."
"Hah! You like to feel wanton! Sluts like you are all alike---what you really need is a big cock and that's what you're going to get," I would say as I slowly pulled down my zipper, forced her to her knees and then shoved my cock into her mouth or pussy. Like all our fantasy sessions, this one would end with both of us quite satiated.
Mary was married for a very short time about six years ago to a guy who began physically abusing her. I never understood what she saw in him in the first place and helped convince her to get help and then divorced once she started showing up at work with bruises.
In hindsight the divorce was fairly easy, but at the time it still distracted Mary enough that I discussed with my wife hiring someone new to work the front desk and greet the customers. Meanwhile I could move Mary to one of the two offices and have her become an agent as I knew she would be a great at it and the business was now big enough for two agents. More importantly I thought it would help her get her confidence back.