tagExhibitionist & VoyeurSlut Lessons For Scott's Wife

Slut Lessons For Scott's Wife

bySimonDoom©

This story was written at the request of and for a member and his wife, based upon some ideas they gave me. It is my Valentine's Day gift to them.

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Scott opened the sliding glass door and walked onto the balcony in bare feet. It was morning and the clouds over the ocean had not broken up yet. The balcony floor and the air around him still were cool. But the weatherman on the radio had said it would be sunny and warm later, and the shafts of light piercing the morning gloom overhead hinted that the forecast would soon come true.

Scott stood with his hands on the railing, his hotel room behind him, and the vastness of the Pacific Ocean in front of him.

It was Valentine's Day.

Scott's home, a small village in rural England, was thousands of miles behind him. He and his wife, Laura, had decided to take a vacation for a week in February, leaving damp and gloomy England behind for the relative warmth of Southern California. They had left the kids behind, in the care of Laura's parents. Scott felt a bit guilty leaving the kids back home, but he and Laura needed some time away, time for themselves.

So far, the trip had satisfied all Scott's hopes and desires. The weather had been perfect, with sunny days and temperatures high enough that they spent two days lying on the beach. They spent another day visiting Disneyland.

The day before, Scott had convinced Laura to wear a skimpy bikini to the beach. He had bought it for her—a size too small. Sure enough, the top had barely enough fabric to contain her DD-sized breasts. The strings on the bottom tied tightly on both sides of her hips, and the little triangle of red fabric stretched snugly over the mound between Laura's legs, concealing little. Laura felt self-conscious about it, at first, and she didn't want to wear it. She told Scott that a bikini like that one was only for skinny girls. Laura wasn't fat, but she had curves and hips and some roundness in her tummy, and she worried about her body spilling out of and overflowing the tiny bikini in ways that didn't conform to the standards set by fashion magazines. But Scott insisted, and Laura gave in.

Thank God, she did, Scott thought, because ogling his wife in the tiny bikini on the beach all day had been one of the most erotic experiences he'd had in a long time. She'd never worn anything like it in public before. It was one thing to see a model wear a bikini like that in a magazine. But to see his wife -- his shy, sweet wife, a primary school teacher, wearing a tiny bikini like that . . . it was beyond sexy. It was like a dream. All day, on the beach, her skin exposed to Scott and to everyone else, Laura had lain on the blanket or walked around on the sand or waded ankle-deep (the water was too cold to do more than that) into the surf. Scott had noticed other men walking by, sneaking glances at his wife's body. He felt a tingle between his legs every time he saw them do it.

One of the great things about Laura, Scott thought, was that, unlike many English women, she had olive-toned skin, which tanned easily. She could lie out on the beach for hours without burning, and Scott, horny beyond belief, could stare at her all day. When the afternoon grew late and the sun perched low over the water to the west they went back to their hotel room, and Scott stripped off Laura's little bikini and fucked his wife long and hard. Afterward, he lay on the bed, spent and sweaty. Laura lay next to him. She wanted to get dressed, but Scott wouldn't let her. He wanted her to be naked for him. So, she stayed that way the rest of the night in their room.

It turned him on to think of it now, looking over the water in the morning, but he knew it was nothing compared to what was coming. Scott was nervous. He didn't know what to expect. He didn't know how he would react when it happened. He didn't know how Laura would react. Scott had a plan, and he hadn't told Laura about it.

Scott had a very unusual Valentine's Day celebration planned for his wife. He and his wife had long needed to do something special with each other, and for each other. Scott thought his plan was just the right thing. He hoped Laura would agree.

Scott turned away from the sea and walked back into his hotel room. Laura still was in the bathroom, getting dressed and ready for the day.

She didn't need to get dressed, Scott thought. But she didn't know that. Not yet.

A loud knock sounded at the door. Scott looked at his phone. 10:00 a.m. Right on time.

He opened the door. A tall, slender man, dressed in a well-pressed light-blue Oxford-cloth shirt and dark pants, stood outside.

"Scott?" he asked.

"That's me," said Scott.

The man held out his hand.

"I'm Simon," he said. "I'm with the Agency. I believe we have an appointment. May I come in?"

Scott held the door open, and Simon walked in. His manner was different from what Scott expected. He had an air of brisk efficiency, and subdued cheerfulness. He looked to be in his mid- 40s. His hair was dark but graying and cropped short. He looked like someone who might sell you a car, or help you file your taxes. He didn't look like . . . well, whatever it was that Scott expected, based on what he knew, or thought, was going to happen today.

Simon carried a black leather gym bag. He looked around the room as he entered.

"Your wife is getting ready, I assume?" A blow drier roared dully from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yes, she is," said Scott. "She should be out in a minute."

"Okey dokey," Simon said. "I'll get things set up while we wait for her to come out."

Simon moved quickly. He pulled a compact, black device out of his bag and hooked it up with cables to the large screen television facing the king-sized bed in the hotel room. He pulled a flash drive out of a pocket in the bag and plugged it into the device. He turned on the television with the remote. A minute later he appeared to be done and seemed satisfied. Scott watched, fascinated, and he tried to figure out what, exactly, Simon was doing.

Moments after Simon finished, Laura emerged from the bathroom. She wore a short pink sundress. Her hair still was slightly damp from the shower. She noticed Simon right away, and looked with curiosity at her husband, and then back at their visitor.

"Hi, I'm Laura," she said. "I don't think we've met."

"I'm Simon, Laura. It's nice to meet you. I'm looking forward to our lesson."

Nobody moved for a few seconds, and Laura looked from Simon back to her husband, uncertainly.

"Lesson? What do you mean, lesson? Scott, what's up?"

Simon looked puzzled for a moment. Then things became clearer to him.

"Scott, you didn't tell her? Naughty boy. Well, that's going to make things more interesting."

"Tell me?" Laura said. "Tell me what? You're not trying to sell us a time share, are you? Scott and I already have talked about that and we're not --"

"No, Laura," Simon cut her off. "I'm not selling you a time share. I'm here at Scott's request. Why don't you sit down on the bed next to Scott, and I'll explain."

Scott patted the bed next to him. "Go ahead, Laura. Come here."

Laura hesitated, but she didn't know what else to do, so she sat next to her husband. She was aware that she was exposing a lot of her bare legs to the strange man under the short dress.

Simon pulled a chair out and away from a little desk against the wall, turned it around, and sat down in it, opposite Laura and Scott.

"Laura, I'm with the Agency. I'm a trainer. A few months ago, your husband contacted us, and he told us he was interested in our services. We explained what we do, where we do it, how we do it. This trip was set up for the training. I guess Scott didn't tell you that. Usually, we like it when the husband lets the wife know well in advance what's going on. But I've done it this way before, too, and it usually works out. So, anyway, I'm here to start the training."

"Training?" Laura asked. "What do you mean, 'training'? What kind of training do you do?" Laura's hands were in the air and she was looking back and forth between Simon and Scott, completely confused.

Simon kept his eyes focused on Laura's. He paused for a beat, until everyone was quiet.

"Laura," he said. "We train wives to become sluts."

Laura's jaw dropped open. She couldn't find the words to say anything. Scott sat stiffly and nervously next to his wife. He wasn't sure what to say or what Laura was going to do.

Simon smiled and held his hands open in a friendly gesture.

"I know that sounds weird. You don't even know me. Let me explain."

Simon paused again to let his words sink in. There always was a moment of shock, even with wives who were prepared. Simon was accustomed to it. Laura closed her mouth, and she looked steadily and evenly at him. Simon knew then that she was ready to hear the rest, so he continued.

"We've spent a lot of time talking to your husband, and getting information from him. He's told us all about your sex life. He's told us about your fantasies, about how the two of you talk all the time about your being a slut and being seen and being fucked by other men. I know about how the two of you have dabbled in exhibitionism. Going outside without panties --knickers, whatever you call it. He told me about the time the two of you drove to the park and he got you naked and strange men walked up to the car and wanked themselves while you spread your legs. I think you Brits call that 'dogging.' I love that word!"

Simon laughed and paused again. He knew there was a lot for Laura to digest. It was best to keep things light, and not too serious.

"Laura, your husband also told me that since having kids there hasn't been as much time for your fantasies, and even for sex, as you would like. You share the same fantasies. But you haven't had the time, or the energy, or maybe the discipline, to turn those fantasies into reality.

"That's where we come into the picture."

Simon let that thought percolate in their heads for a few moments before he continued.

"Laura, we're a group of people who believe that wives like you should live your fantasies. We want to help you and your husband fulfill them. That's why I'm here."

Simon stopped. Silence lay over the room like a blanket. Laura could hear herself breathe, but she heard nothing else. She didn't know what to think about what this man was saying, or how to respond to him. Simon continued.

"Laura, your husband contacted us so we could train you today. You will have to agree to the training. We don't do this unless both partners consent. If you don't consent, I'll leave right now, and you'll never see me again. But if you do consent, then I will start your training right away. The choice is yours."

Laura's mouth opened and shut a few times. She didn't know what to say. Scott spoke first, in her stead.

"Simon, maybe tell us more about what the training involves. So, Laura can decide what she wants to do."

"Sure," Simon replied. "First, Laura, I'll ask you some questions and ask you to do some things here in the room. If that part of the test goes well, then you will accompany me out of this room, to somewhere else. Scott will stay here. You'll be back here before the end of the day. What do you say?"

Laura didn't know what to say. She still was overwhelmed. A man she had never met had proposed to take her away somewhere, leaving her husband behind, and to do -- what? She had no idea.

"I'm not sure what to say," she answered at last, her voice wavering. "I don't know you. I'm thousands of miles from home and you want to take me somewhere and do something. How do I know who you are?"

"That's a fair question," Simon answered. "Scott?"

Scott held Laura's hand.

"Laura, I found out about the Agency from my friend Geoff, at work. He vouched for them."

"Geoff . . . who's Geoff? Have I met him?"

"I think so, once. But anyway, I know Geoff well, and I trust him. He said he and his wife tried the Agency, and he said it was great. He gave me some more information, and I've done some investigation on my own. Simon and I have talked on the telephone about it.

"Laura, we've been talking about this for years. About exposing you. About you and other men. About you being . . . a slut. It turned you on as much as it turned me on when we fantasized about it.

"This is a great chance for us. We're 7,000 miles from home. Nobody knows us here. You can fulfill your fantasies and no one who knows you will know -- your family, your friends, your colleagues at school. Nobody. Let's give this a try. I want this. I think you do, too."

Laura was filled with uncertainty, even a little fear. But inside her, she felt a trill of excitement as well. What Scott said was true. It was their biggest fantasy together. In bed, they would talk about her being naked in public, around other men. About their hands on her, poking her, caressing her, spreading her open, and, yes, about the men fucking her. She loved hearing her husband talking about their fantasies out loud. She thrilled to the sound of the word "slut" when it came out of Scott's mouth and was directed at her. She often wondered what it really would be like to be a slut. She and Scott had play acted, but they had followed through on their fantasies only a little bit, and infrequently. With kids at home, and with Scott and Laura in their early thirties, it often seemed that their fantasies would remain fantasies, and would never come true.

Now a strange man was sitting across from her, telling her that her fantasies could become real.

"What . . . what exactly do you want me to do?"

"That's the spirit," Simon said with a big smile. "We'll take this a step at a time. No need to throw you in the deep end right away.

"First things first. Take off all your clothes."

"You mean right now?" Laura's voice sounded very small and far away to her, like it was coming from the other side of the room, and from a different person.

"Right now. Everything. We need to get you completely naked. Right, Scott?"

"Do it, Laura," Scott said. "Get naked. I know you want to."

Laura looked back and forth between her husband Scott and this strange man. She felt timid and scared, but she also felt something inside her that was stirred and excited.

"All right, I guess," Laura said. "You want me to do it. I'll do it."

She lifted her bottom off the bed and pulled the bottom hem of the sundress up to her waist. Her pale pink thong underwear was exposed, now, to Scott and to Simon. She'd imagined doing something like this many times, but now that she really was doing it she hesitated. She was keenly aware of her body. She liked her body, and Scott told her all the time how much he liked it, but she knew she didn't look like a model. She was an attractive thirty-something English school teacher, not a porn star. She didn't know how much men would want to see her naked.

Her husband did. He sat still and straight on the bed with his eyes wide and blinking and intent on the sight of his wife undressing. Simon, too, looked very interested, though not with the same raw eagerness as her husband. He's done this a lot, Laura thought to herself.

She pulled the dress up from her waist and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the bed. Now she wore only panties and a bra. She put her hands behind her back and found the hook. She unsnapped it and shrugged the bra off her shoulders. Her right arm instinctively shot around to her front, cupping and covering what she could of her breasts, now that the bra lay in her lap.

"You have to take the arm away," Simon said.

Laura looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath. In her fantasies, she hadn't been this nervous. Actually stripping in front of a strange man in bright light was something else, though. Slowly, she removed her arm from her front. She rested both hands on the bed to either side of her.

Simon scooted his chair forward and reached out and took one of Laura's nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He caressed it, gently.

"Beautiful," he said. "Your breasts are so full and large." He put a hand underneath one, and lifted it, kneading it softly with his fingers as he did so. "The guys are going to love these tits," he said.

"Guys?" Laura said.

"Yes," said Simon. "The guys who are going to see you naked later. Some of them really like large natural breasts like yours. They're going to have fun with you."

Laura felt goosebumps form on her arms at Simon's words. Guys . . . who were going to see her naked. It was weird but thrilling to have him talk about her in this way.

"All right," Simon said, taking his hand away and letting her boob fall back in place. "Bottoms off."

Laura hesitated again. It was one thing to show another man her breasts, it was another to show him her vulva. But she complied, hooking a thumb on either side of the little panties and pulling them down her legs. She lifted her legs out of them, and they lay on the floor. Laura was completely naked now.

"Excellent," Simon said. "Before we go any further, I have to put something on you."

Simon grabbed his gym bag on the floor and pulled a pair of shoes out of it. They were made of black leather, with what looked like a four- or five- inch heel, open at the toes, and a crisscross pattern of ankle straps. To Laura, they looked expensive.

"I don't know about you, Laura," Simon said. "But I say there's nothing like a good pair of shoes to build confidence. And these are very good shoes. Your husband gave me your size, so they should fit."

Simon took her feet and slipped them into the shoes. His hands nimbly and expertly buckled up the straps. When he was done, Laura straightened her legs out from her so she could see them better. The heels were very high, higher than any she had at home. The straps crossed several inches up her ankles. She guessed that they were more expensive than any shoes she'd ever worn. They were much sexier than anything she'd worn as well. The shoes were very light, but the straps seemed to hold them firmly to her feet.

The heels said, "fuck me," but in a posh way, Laura thought.

"One final thing," Simon said. He reached into his bag again and pulled out a thin black leather collar. A single steel ring hung from it. Simon reached around her neck and put it on her. The interior of the collar was made of a soft, plush material of some kind, so although it fit snugly it was not uncomfortable. Laura never had worn a collar before.

There were going to be a lot of firsts today, Laura thought.

"How are you doing, Laura?" Simon asked. Laura was struck by Simon's ability to maintain his cheerful but business-like manner in such odd circumstances.

"I'm fine," Laura said. And she meant it. Now that she was naked, and had nothing left to reveal, she felt more confident. And Simon was right: the shoes helped. They looked sexy without looking cheap.

"I'm glad," Simon said. "You're going to need to get comfortable with what you are wearing, because this is all you will wear for the rest of the day. Wherever we go, whatever we do, whomever we see -- you will be wearing these heels and this collar, and nothing else. Not until we return to this hotel room and I'm done with you. You will be completely naked all day.

"Does that excite you, Laura?"

The weight of what Simon said -- that she would be naked all day -- hit Laura like a brick, sapping some of her newfound confidence. But not all of it.

"Yes," she said in a tiny voice.

"Let's see," Simon said. "Put your heels up on the bed, to either side of you, and lean back on your elbows."

Laura did as he asked. Simon wasn't the first man other than her husband to see her pussy. She had flashed a few men before, with a glance up her skirt, and her husband had exposed her to several men that time in the car in the park. But this was different. Simon's head was right between her legs. No car door separated him from her. The lack of a barrier made her nervous, but she complied. The point of each heel dug into the bed spread and she held her knees far to the side of her. Laura glanced at her husband. Scott sat on the bed to the side of her staring between her legs. His torso and head were perfectly still but his hand was clutching and unclutching the crotch of his pants in a slow rhythm. Scott was turned on by his wife's exposure of her body to Simon.

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