Exposing Amy Ch. 03

This is part 3 of a series and it is highly recommended that you read the first two parts in order to understand the characters. As usual all comments are welcomed and encouraged.

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In the ensuing months, Amy and I still went to the rugby club once a fortnight for the home game. We were acutely aware of how embarrassed we both were, when Amy bared her breasts to the gathered boys, an act she almost ritually performed.

If you remember where all this started, that merely showing upskirt was such an embarrassment to Amy, then you will know that revealing her breasts in her fully opened blouse, to six boys (boys who were blissfully unaware that they had all fucked her and in fact one of them was actually the baby's father) was an action guaranteed to stir a deep emotion in us both. When Amy allowed each boy to take in her darkened and erect nipples the intimacy, partial nudity and her obvious arousal was incredibly humiliating and therefore thrilling. This excitement sent a sick feeling down from her stomach like an electric shock into her groin.

For new readers, this is where our fetish began. I am not a cuckold, I do not get sexually aroused by watching my wife with other men. We are both incredibly shy and private people, who find that any embarrassment and humiliation that we may suffer, is actually an incredible turn-on for us. By letting all those boys see her breasts in this manner, we felt ashamed. Although to other people this would be nothing, to us, we felt that it made us pathetic figures of ridicule, which was therefore incredibly arousing for us.

We had talked about Amy getting pregnant again, because we had found that an unknown boy being our Child's father, to be every bit as humiliating and crushing as we expected.

Earlier we told you that we had considered letting a loud mouth braggart to be the father of Amy's next baby but although we would have found his boasting around town to be perfect humiliation, we thought that this would affect the child in later years, so it would be best for a more low key humiliation. We settled on the wimp two doors down across the street from us. His name was Colin Pearce and he was locally known as Creepy Colin. He was a loser, a loner, a skinny runt of a man. Colin was a pathetic figure, clean and respectable granted but otherwise a figure of ridicule, a man nondescript in every way.

Amy takes up the story.

The problem was not with our choosing who to impregnate me but how to make it happen. I could get laid, that would be easy but for this to work and give both of us what we craved, namely the shame and humiliation of being pregnant to this loser, it would require some creative thinking. The conditions, the situation and the result, surrounding the conception, the subsequent pregnancy and life afterwards, would have to be played out in a certain manner to create the situation that our 'sickness' craved.

Any situation regarding me being made pregnant by another man, had to be consensual between myself and Paul. We had loosely decided on Colin but we had not had chance to discuss the details. Consent on those plans, which would be vital to our mutual satisfaction, was paramount. However fate and a certain sequence of events conspired to make it even more humiliating for Paul.

One morning I was in the local supermarket car park and I was trying to manoeuvre past an expensive looking sports car. My baby was at my mother's house, which was the first time she had been away from me. The stress of missing her and thinking about my baby made me inattentive to the situation.

I hit the car, not just a little bump but a huge gouge out of a side panel.

Fearing what it would cost us, I acted out of character - I fled. There was no one around to witness the incident, so I drove away quickly and just as I was leaving the car park, there stood Colin, pushing a trolley. He looked at me and then across to the sports car, then back to me. He flicked his head as if to say,

"Go, Go"

Sometime after returning home, I was stood looking out of my window when I saw Colin drive down the street and into his driveway. I was still considering going to his house to try and explain when I saw him look across. He seemed to look at me a couple of times and then away again as if he was deciding what to do.

Then I saw him coming over.

I met Colin at my door.

"Oh, er, hi Colin, er, what can I do for you?" I stammered.

"Hi Mrs Barnes, he said, I just came over to see that you were ok after your little accident," he replied.

I had no choice but to invite Creepy Colin over the threshold of my home.

"Er, er, come in," I said.

I saw no point in being in denial, so I immediately began to excuse myself from earlier.

"Oh I don't know what came over me, I just panicked with it being such an expensive car, I acted totally out of character," I pleaded.

"Don't worry yourself Mrs Barnes, I haven't come to cause trouble or to distress you in any way, he assured me. To own a car like that you have to be very rich, so whoever's it was can afford it. So don't you worry yourself on account of what I might say."

There was no blackmail threat, but just the merest hint that he was doing me a favour here.

"People wouldn't understand if they found out that you had run away but don't worry I won't tell anyone."

At first this set my mind at rest, however, the crazy thoughts going through my head were causing me alarm. Paul and I had always agreed on any specific action we might make but the more Colin stood there, puny, pathetic, ugly and looking such a wimp, the more I realised that I wanted him to have me. I wanted the shame of giving myself to such a man and my desire for the disgrace of being impregnated by him took over.

Creepy Colin made to leave and my instinct took over.

"Would you like a coffee Cree.. Er Colin?" I asked.

While the coffee brewed, I made my excuses and went upstairs. My mind working on instinct, hurried me into my bedroom and at lightening speed I changed my underwear and wiped all the makeup from my face.

At this point it is probably best that I explain to you where my mind was racing to.

If Paul and I wanted me to get pregnant again, then the circumstances would have to fit in with our fetishes and perversions. So therefore, if Creepy Colin was to be the father, it had to be done in a certain way. For our humiliation, embarrassment and shame to be complete, it would not be enough to let the sad pathetic excuse for a man downstairs to fuck me and knock me up.

I instantly realised that the humiliation had to be on-going, it would not be enough to be shamed for a short period of time. Our humiliation had to be present through the conception, the pregnancy and after I had given birth to this man's child. It had to last as long as we knew Colin, for years to come if necessary.

To this end, the conception could not be a consensual fuck, it could not be rape, it had to be somewhere in the middle. The circumstances around which I let this man have me, needed to be of coercion and reluctance. I had to make him feel now and forever, that he had taken advantage of a timid and rather pathetic and vulnerable woman.

I needed Colin Pearce to look back at me in the future and sneer at me. I needed him to be contemptuous of me being such an innocent and stupid dumb ass. A woman so weak and foolish, as to not be able to resist being manipulated, taken advantage of and used by a man like him.

To this end, it would be of no use for him to be a confidant guy who thought well of himself. If Colin thought he was just a guy that I fancied and slept with because I was a slut, then the shame would not be present. The situation that I wished to create did not work with a normal average guy, it was vitally important that Colin knew exactly the sort of man I thought he was. I was lucky in this respect in so much as Colin knew from the taunting of the kids in the street, the piss-taking of his peers and the way no woman would have anything to do with him, exactly what people thought of him. He was well aware of his deficiencies as a man.

Colin knew that he was a pathetic figure of ridicule and a social outcast, so by definition, me opening my legs for him made myself look a wretched, good-for-nothing slut. If I had let a man such as him have me, the implication would hopefully give him an even bigger feather in his cap, whilst making me look cheap and worthless, such an immoral slut, that I would even give myself to the likes of him. This would hopefully in time to come, make him incredibly arrogant and contemptuous of me, thinking he had manipulated, used and abused me.

From this point on, I had to carry off an Oscar winning performance to ensure Colin left this house believing the context of what had happened.

He had to take advantage of me and seduce me into an involuntary and reluctant act.

As I re-entered the kitchen Colin was stood waiting. Again I raised the issue of me having done wrong and that he had me at a disadvantage.

The dialogue was drab and is unimportant, the salient fact is, that it became obvious that he was not going to use the situation to his advantage and that I was going to have to lead him by the nose.

Continuing my performance, I said in the most timid voice that I could produce,

"Please Colin, you won't report me will you? We just couldn't afford the repairs, or the hike in insurance premiums, let alone the fact that I left the scene of an accident. I continued, I will do anything to make it up to you."

Those words finally sparked the first flicker of recognition in his face, he suddenly realised the potential here. My act suggesting that I was afraid and timid, successfully gave the hint that he had the power over a vulnerable woman.

Once I had planted the seed Colin began to change tack. As the potential grew and grew in his head, he started making hints, his innuendo becoming more sexual.

Colin was just testing the water so to speak, going a little further with his rude hints and suggestive comments each time, waiting for the moment I would react to his inappropriate behaviour.

But it never came.

As he became more and more suggestive, I responded by acting like a little frightened virgin and I timidly allowed him to say these things to me unchallenged. My meekness and discomfort emboldening him. At this point, if I had shown any strength or asserted myself at all, his resolve and confidence would have collapsed. He would have stuttered his apologies and ran. However I played the timid, frightened little girl to perfection.

Emboldened, Colin moved to stand before me and the years of humiliation began. Putting both his hands on my shoulders, Colin looked me in the eyes.

"Surely Mrs Barnes..." he began.

"Amy, please call me Amy." I whispered.

"If the police found out that I was a witness and I have not come forward I would be in serious trouble, Colin explained to the stupid woman before him. Surely AMY, he said with an uncanny personal emphasis it is hard to describe, all I am risking for you must be worth a little kiss, yes?"

He leant forward and did no more than press his lips to my closed mouth and gave me a child like peck, closed lips to closed lips.

Things were moving finally in the direction I wanted them to go. (Well I didn't actually WANT this to happen but my uncontrollable fetish and needs were in control here.) With trembling and shaking hands, Colin touched my top button. Playing the role as best I could, I nervously put my hands on his to stop him going any further.

I looked him in the eyes as I begged him not to continue,

"Please Colin, you shouldn't do things like that, I have a husband."

The first mention of Paul sent a thrill into my sex, it made this so real.

Unbeknown to me, the mention of Paul's name also sent a surge of blood into Colin's cock. Here he was, messing around with another man's wife and if the signals were correct, then he might just get to see her tits or something like that.

As it happened, Colin was equally aroused, not just by what he might get away with with a woman but a married woman at that. Someone else, namely Paul, was the loser and finally not him. In the mind of a perennial loser it wasn't enough to abuse and take advantage of a woman, if he could abuse and take advantage of another man's wife, then so much the better, so much more would he be a winner.

When Colin didn't stop I closed my eyes theatrically and bit my lip, like a child cringing from something scary.

"Please don't Mr Pearce, I whimpered unconvincingly, it's rude."

My performance at this point had only been to portray to Colin my shyness and reluctance, to convince him of my fear but suddenly it wasn't an act anymore. I was still the same woman who had been mortified when her skirt rode up and merely showed her thighs. As I cringed and flinched at his touch, my emotions and my self-conscious and adolescent-like blushing were genuine.

My pathetic pleading for him to not do this, was deliberately weak enough to not risk putting him off, or make him lose confidence, yet wasn't enough to appear willing or to give him the green light.

The moment of truth arrived.

Colin Pearce trusted his instinct and took a big gamble that I wouldn't resist, that he wasn't crossing a line that would have me screaming for my husband and crying rape. Colin lifted his hands to mine and gently pulled my arms down to my sides and away from my blouse. At that moment, again I screwed my eyes closed and bit my bottom lip, my genuine consternation, trepidation, distress and dread of what was about to happen showed in my face, as I allowed him to pull my arms away.

This was the moment when the future was decided, it was the decisive moment in all that happened. It was the moment that Colin Pearce finally knew he was going to go further with a woman than he ever had before (I was unaware of that at the time) and it was the very moment that I realised that the next insane episode in our shameful, disgusting and repellent lifestyle was born.

Colin slowly and deliberately unfastened one, then two of my buttons. Moving slowly so as not to spook me and ruin his chances, he slowly moved down my blouse stage by stage. I stood stock still, remaining in character with my eyes closed. I felt my blouse being opened and pushed back from my shoulders.

Colin stared at my white, plain, drab, old cotton bra which hid my breasts completely. (When I had rushed to dress, I realised that if I appeared in anyway sexually confident or attractive, then this deceit would not work. So to appear as I wanted Colin to believe me to be, I had put on the oldest, most unattractive underwear and wiped all makeup off, to try and be the plain timid housewife.)

As Colin pushed up my bra and exposed my soft pliable breasts. They had swollen from a normal 34c to a post-natal 36c and already sported (embarrassingly) hard nipples, I continued my act.

"Please Colin you shouldn't do that, I quickly followed with, you won't tell anyone, will you?"

Colin raised his trembling hands and cupped my breasts, my nipples sensitive and flushed.

"If I let you touch me, you won't tell my husband, will you Colin?" I whispered.

Colin kneaded my breasts for a while then suddenly reached for the button on my skirt.

"Please Colin you mustn't do that here, someone may see,"

The hint so obvious even loser Colin didn't miss it. Grabbing my hand he led me to the stairs and then pulled me up them, as I made a weak token gesture of resisting him.

"Oh God no Colin, we mustn't," I cried dramatically

This decision to entice him to take me in my bedroom, I made for one reason. I thought,

"Sorry Paul, I know we should have agreed but if you want true humiliation, then I am going to give it to you."

Creepy Colin was going to have me in my own marriage bed.

I felt the movement of his hands and my clothing over the swell of my hips. Pushing my skirt and panties down, he exposed my tight triangle which hid my rapidly swelling outer lips. I wanted to cover myself, I wanted to run away and hide. My breasts swayed gently with every movement I made, I was naked before this horrible man and every fibre of my being was racked with embarrassment and the humiliation that always accompanied this shame.

I expected him to pause and examine me, to look at my pussy and to gaze at his prize but he was in too much of a hurry.

Colin pushed me onto the bed. I lay back trying to be shy and hesitant. I knew I couldn't carry off a '14 year old virgin' act but it was vital for this to be reluctant and bordering on non consent as much as possible.

"Its ok Amy, I won't tell anyone honest. Just open your legs and be nice to me." Colin coaxed, as though he was talking to a child.

I looked at Colin's face as I allowed his hands to part my legs. I let them fall open revealing myself to his excited almost manic gaze. I was glad I had grown my pubic hair, as a shaven pussy would have spoiled the effect that I hoped I was producing and would have made me appear sexually adventurous.

Baring myself to him made my insides lurch with revulsion.

This man could see my intimate folds.

Colin gazed between my legs, he looked down at me almost drooling like a cartoon character.

Quickly undressing, it was Colin's turn to shock me.

He was hung.

Don't get me wrong he wasn't ridiculously or unfeasibly big like a porn star, but on Colin's weedy, skinny and pathetic body the cock looked huge. On a normal sized man, the penis would have looked quite big but on Colin... Wow!

His trembling fingers touched my wet lips as though he might get burned or get an electric shock, yet the shock was all mine. Colin was too far gone to care an iota about my pleasure or feelings, he wanted to get his over-excited cock inside my pussy and was scared that at any moment something would happen to stop it. He shuffled between my legs and rubbed his large penis up and down my immorally wet vagina.

There was to be no foreplay, I was simply going to be used, which I found even more of a turn-on.

"Please Colin, you won't hurt me will you? Please be gentle with me." I whispered, the secret role playing I was sure was turning him on as much as it was me.

This Oscar winning performance continued as Colin nestled his bulbous cock head between my wet sopping labia.

I closed my eyes and actually bit my knuckle like heroine in a melodrama, I wanted to portray reluctant submission, I opened my eyes and looked into his as he eased himself into me and as I felt my opening stretch I whispered,

"Please don't tell anyone, please don't tell anyone that I let you 'do it' to me."

I felt the 'oh so humiliatingly familiar' feeling of a strange cock opening and stretching me. My outer lips bulged as they parted and I felt my sensitive pink walls being driven apart. Colin groaned as his big cock slid deeper and deeper inside me, until our pelvic bones touched, our pubic hair fully enmeshed. He was buried to the hilt inside my rapidly responding pussy. However, as soon as he started to fuck me, I knew it was going to be a very short consummation.

Sensing he was already struggling to not cum, I tried my best to create what I hoped would be indelibly ingrained in his memory and his belief of what was happening here. I wanted him to believe that I was letting him take me, meekly and reluctantly. I wanted two contradictory things at the same time and I prayed that I could play them both, without ruining the moment.

As Colin neared his orgasm I pleaded,

"Oh please, please don't cum inside me, please don't let your stuff go into me." I cried, whilst all the time knowing he was too close to stop and it was the very thing I wanted.

As I said, I wanted this moment to be implanted in both our memories, so I played to the man's primeval instincts.