The Journey Begins

Greg knew how to get what he wanted from Michelle. After three years of dating and an engagement, then two years of marriage, he had learned just how to manipulate Michelle into any situation he wanted. And what Greg usually wanted from Michelle other than keeping the house clean, fixing dinner and doing the laundry was sex. Sex in every form and in every place the urge struck him.

They had been having sex since their third date, however, and Greg's appetite was craving something different. Something that would elicit the thrill he had felt when he had first conquered Michelle's virginity and then proceeded to teach her how to please him. His thoughts and fantasies had lately turned to images of Michelle fucking and sucking other men. Preferably, total strangers. He had been taking advantage of her submissiveness the past few months to indulge in a little flashing of her gorgeous, petite body. She usually objected strenuously, but would ultimately give in to his strange desires rather than make him angry with her.

Greg had learned to use this weakness against his pretty wife. Whenever he wanted to do something he knew she wouldn't like, he would find some excuse to pick a fight with her. Often, it was something very minor, like not fixing what he liked for dinner or failing to iron his shirts the way he insisted they be ironed. She finally did something that Greg could really use to get her to do absolutely anything he wanted. As soon as Greg realized this, his mind took flights of fantasy, imagining the humiliating, degrading things he was going to have her do.

It wasn't all that serious of a mistake on Michelle's part, but she had spilled some bleach on an oriental rug that Greg had just bought for their den. After first thoroughly berating Michelle for her stupidity and carelessness, Greg began his torturous silent treatment. That was what Michelle couldn't stand. To be in the same house, the same bed, with him and he wouldn't even acknowledge her existence. Michelle would be able to cope with the silent treatment for the first day or so, but after that it really began to get to her. She would do everything she could to get Greg to talk to her, but to no avail. She would even attempt to use her luscious body to melt his stern heart, parading around in front of him with nothing but her high-heeled shoes on. It wasn't easy for Greg to ignore her when she would flaunt her body in front of him, displaying her breasts and perfectly rounded ass where he couldn't help but see her.

But this time, Greg had a new resolve. He knew what he wanted and he also knew that in order to have his way, he would have to have Michelle near the point of breakdown. She was an emotional girl and most of the time cheerful and playful, quick to laugh with a lilting, little-girl laugh that was infectious to all those around her. Her family lived not more than a mile from them, but she didn't dare to talk to them about her marital problems. So she suffered through Greg's spells of silence, the laughter in her dying, the playfulness absent, and the hunger for forgiveness from Greg would build in her until she would be near tears. Actually, she would often cry herself to sleep while Greg was at work, certain that she was losing the only man she had ever loved.

Greg silently observed the torment that Michelle was going through and a couple of times, he almost relented from what he was putting her through. It was only his fantasies that he wanted to fulfill that kept him from taking her in his arms and telling her that everything was okay and that he loved her and forgave her. After three days of torturing Michelle with his silence, Greg finally spoke to her. They had just left their Friday evening choir practice and Greg had headed towards downtown Fort Lauderdale, sensing it was time to put his plan into action.

"You want to make up, Michelle?" Greg asked as they headed down Sunrise Boulevard.

His voice took Michelle by surprise as she first looked at him in incomprehension. His words then reached her consciousness and she spoke softly, "you know I do, Greg. I hate it when you won't talk to me. It makes me miserable."

Greg replied with a stern voice, laced with a hint of possible forgiveness for Michelle's perceived mistake. "Well, what are you willing to do to make up for ruining that rug? You sorry you did it?"

Michelle sat in the passenger seat of the corvette with her hands meekly folded in her lap. She didn't look at Greg as she replied, "yes, I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to spill the bleach, though." She was quiet a full minute before she answered his first question. "I'll do anything you want if you'll just talk to me and forgive me."

They had just crossed over the railroad tracks and entered the edge of the small downtown area and Greg pulled into a vacant parking lot that stretched along SW First Avenue for at least a block. He cut off the motor and turned to look at his young wife. He couldn't help but be impressed, even after the past five years, with her simple beauty. She had that innocent, little-girl look about her, with flawless, creamy skin and brilliant blue eyes. Her short hair was naturally wavy and enhanced her features, framing her face with the glow of the honey color. Her little up-turned nose and full, petulant lips completed the vision that was many men's dream of the perfect face. But Michelle's beauty didn't stop there.

She was petite and voluptuous at the same, which all the more accentuated her firm, sizable breasts and her ass that seemed to jut out from her backside as though she was padded in the behind. To top it off, Michelle had undoubtedly the most perfect legs that ever graced any woman. They were perfectly shaped in Greg's eyes and every man who happened to get to see them. Without a sign of a knee cap or even an ankle bone, her legs swept from nicely-rounded thighs through fantastic geometric curves to her tiny feet. The bronze glow of her skin from endless hours of sunbathing was truly a sight to behold and Greg never tired of looking at her.

Greg's silence while he studied his wife made her tremble, questioning herself if she had sounded sincere in her desire for them to make up and Michelle almost pleaded, "please, Greg, please, forgive me. I'll do anything you want to make up, I promise."

Greg knew at that instant that he had Michelle where he wanted her, but he decided to test her sincerity, "really? Anything, Michelle? Even if I say I want you to fuck another man?"

Michelle looked at him with a shocked look on her face, although his question didn't really surprise her as Greg had suggested that they try swinging before. She just didn't expect him to make that a condition of his forgiveness. His question made her unsure if she should repeat that she would do anything for his forgiveness. But Michelle also knew that if she didn't, Greg most likely would not forgive her and she would be faced once again with endless days of his silence. That thought made her answer, "yes, Greg. I said I would do anything, and I meant it. As long as you love me, nothing else matters."

Greg kept his joy contained within, not letting on to Michelle how much her answer had thrilled and excited him. What an opportunity! Greg patted Michelle's leg and, in his most loving voice, replied, "I do love you, honey. I really do. I don't like us to fight, either." As he finished his proclamation of love, Greg leaned over and kissed Michelle softly on her full lips. Even her lips revealed her elation that her husband still loved her and forgave her, their hungry clinging to his telling Greg that she really would do anything he wanted this night.

Greg sat back in his seat and began the fulfilling of his fantasy. "Okay, baby, the first thing I want you to do is take off your panties."

Michelle was used to Greg wanting her to go without panties, so his demand that she take them off didn't bother her and she didn't hesitate lifting her bottom off of the car seat and sliding her skirt up. She quickly slipped them down her legs and then bent forward to carefully pull them over her white pumps so they wouldn't get dirty or snagged on the sharp heels. Michelle straightened up and held the frilly underwear in her hands, unsure of what she could do with them.

Greg held out his hand for her to give them to him and she passed them neatly folded. Greg didn't treat the flimsy material as carefully, wadding them up in one hand and stuffing them under his seat. He looked at Michelle appraisingly, thinking that the way she was dressed couldn't have been more fitting for his plan. Michelle was dressed in a candy-striped silk blouse with a high collar that really accentuated her full breasts through the thin material. She wore a tight-fitting white skirt that came about six inches above her knees. It seemed to be molded to her rounded thighs and behind. Greg had always liked her in the outfit she had chosen to wear to the choir practice that night and, for some reason, she seemed to appear even more sexy in it as he sat and drank in her beauty. After a moment of studying her, Greg continued, "now, the bra, Michelle. Take it off."

This didn't surprise Michelle either. It was another of Greg's fetishes that she had become used to. He loved the way her breasts would jiggle when she walked without the constraints of a bra and often insisted she went braless. She was a little concerned about taking it off while they were parked so close to one of the main streets of downtown, even though there wasn't much traffic at nine-thirty at night. She looked around nervously before beginning to unbutton her blouse, making sure that no one from the nearby street could see her adhere to Greg's wishes. She was painfully aware that the low convertible corvette made it possible for any passers by to see her as she removed her blouse. Michelle kept her eyes sweeping the area as she leaned forward in the seat and managed to slide the blouse off of her shoulders and then her arms. Greg undid the clasp of her wide-strapped bra as she bent forward and Michelle slipped it over her arms, then handed the lacy, large-cup bra to him. She then wasted no time in slipping her blouse back over her bare torso, still nervously looking back and forth for signs of onlookers.

Just as Michelle was about to button her blouse, Greg stopped her. "Uh-uh, beautiful. Don't button it. I want to show off those fantastic tits."

Michelle looked at Greg with a question in her eyes, but unspoken, thinking that surely Greg wouldn't insist that she go around with her blouse unbuttoned. Greg eased her fears when he suggested, "just pull the bottom up and tie it in front. You know, like that tie-up top you have."

Michelle was certain that tying her blouse in that manner wouldn't do much to hide her generous chest, but she proceeded to do as Greg suggested, rolling the thin material up from the bottom and then tying it in a square knot over her midriff. The blouse she was wearing wasn't meant for being worn in this manner and as she looked down her front at the result, she was concerned that her breasts could easily fall out of the resulting v-opening. The tie-top that Greg had referred to was designed to be worn like that, but the thin, clinging dressy blouse was not. Silently, Michelle hoped that Greg would relent and have her button it instead. She was soon disappointed when Greg reached over and spread the opening between her full breasts a little more, exposing a good portion of her breasts and making it obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra, which was obvious enough as it was, with her nipples making indentations through the light material. Still, Michelle didn't object, mindful of her promise to do anything that Greg wanted. She was determined to prove to him that she would keep her word, no matter what Greg had in mind.

Greg sat with his back to the driver's door and studied Michelle approvingly. "Very nice," he almost whispered, his arousal making his voice somewhat hoarse. "Sexy, too," he added. "Men are going to cum in their pants when they see you."

Michelle blushed. She was easily embarrassed and never could accept compliments gracefully. She never thought of herself as beautiful or sexy, although Greg had often assured her that she was. She was certain that if any men got excited when looking at her, it would only be because of the slutty way she was now dressed and not her looks.

Greg started the big engine with a throaty 'vroomm' and pulled out of the parking lot, heading down First Avenue towards the New River. He turned onto the street that paralleled the river and parked in a space just around the corner. The absence of other parked cars on the street revealed just how deserted the downtown area became after dark, although the parking lots at the theaters and hotels were generally pretty full. Greg got out of the car and came around to open Michelle's door, always playing the part of a gentleman. He held the door open as he watched Michelle swing her legs around to exit and he felt his cock twitch as her movement caused her short skirt to rise slightly and reveal her upper thighs. It wasn't the sight of her muscular thighs as much as the knowledge that if the skirt had risen just another couple of inches, her pussy would have been exposed. The thought that any man, if in the correct position, could see Michelle's treasures was having quite an effect on Greg. He was more determined than ever to make sure that more than one man would get to enjoy that sight this night.

Greg guided Michelle to the sidewalk beside the car and took her in his arms, his hands immediately dropping to her firm butt and squeezing. Greg stared into Michelle's eyes as he moved his fingers up to the top of her zipper and unceremoniously pulled it down, then stuck one hand inside to feel the soft, velvety skin. Greg massaged it for a minute then withdrew his hand. When Michelle realized that Greg hadn't zipped her skirt back up, she started to reach behind herself and zip it closed, but Greg grabbed her hands. "Oh, no, baby. Leave it just like it is. I want to be able to feel those sweet cheeks whenever I feel like it."

"But, but, people will see me, Greg," Michelle complained.

"So?" Greg sneered. "That's the idea. I want them to see you." Greg continued to hold Michelle's wrists as he stared down at her, then reminded, "remember, you said you'd do anything I wanted. If you're going to complain about anything, then let's just forget it." With that proclamation, Greg released Michelle's wrists and stepped back, an accusing glare on his face.

Michelle quickly recovered and began to apologize, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I wasn't complaining, just telling you, is all." She bit her lower lip and almost tearfully added, "I won't say anything again, I promise."

Greg continued to glare at her for a moment and then commanded, "fine, then. Bend over and look up at me."

Michelle didn't understand why Greg wanted her to bend over, but she did as he said, bending over from the waist with her hands on her legs. She then saw where Greg was looking and understood as his eyes were focused on the effect of her gravity-pulled breasts forcing the opening of her blouse wider. She looked at her chest and saw that one breast was about ready to fall out. Her first inclination was to tuck it back in her blouse, but she knew that would only anger her husband, so she left her hands on her knees.

Greg then walked behind her and studied the opening the lowered zipper created in her skirt. "Perfect," he thought. "Shows just enough of the crack of her ass. Be clear that she's not wearing any panties, too." Greg rubbed the palm of one hand over the stretched cheeks and then playfully patted Michelle's behind before saying, "okay, you can straighten up now, baby. I just wanted to see what other men will be able to see." He wanted to keep driving that into Michelle's mind, that other men were going to get to see her the way he was able to see her.

Greg stepped beside Michelle and put one arm across her shoulder and began to walk down the dimly-lit sidewalk, heading nowhere in particular, just enjoying walking with his pretty wife as he mentally searched for how he was going to be able to realize the fantasies that had been building in his mind. He had settled on how he was going to get his wife to do whatever he wanted and he knew what his ultimate goal was, but just wasn't sure how he would make it happen.

As they walked, Greg slipped his hand inside Michelle's blouse and cupped one breast, fondling it almost absent-mindedly. It was an erotic feeling, to be able to walk down a public street playing with his wife's breasts, but Greg wanted more. They hadn't walked more than a half-block before a car rounded the corner behind them and drove by slowly. Greg left his hand inside Michelle's blouse as he looked at the driver of the car, barely visible in the dim glow of the few street lamps on the street. He was glad to see that the driver was a man and appeared to be alone. He was even happier to see that the driver was staring quite pointedly at them and had slowed to almost a crawl when he saw that Greg had his hand inside the girl's blouse. Greg grinned as he watched the man continue to stare at them, leaning his head out of his window, the rest of the way down the block. It was a wonder that the driver didn't drive his car into the river. From the way the man had stared at them, Greg was sure that the car would be coming around the block again. He watched to see which way the car would turn as it reached the intersection with St. Andrews and he wasn't surprised when he saw the tail lights disappear to the left.

Greg figured that the same car would be passing them again within a minute or so and this time he wanted to be prepared, so he watched for the car's headlights out of the corner of his eye as he kept his head turned towards the river. Just as he had thought, he spotted a pair of headlights round the corner behind them and immediately guided Michelle off of the sidewalk and a few feet into the road. As soon as the approaching car was withing a couple of car lengths, Greg flipped Michelle's breast out of her blouse in one quick, effortless move, and cupped his hand under it. Michelle was startled at the sudden exposure, but to her credit, she did nothing to stop Greg from showing the stranger her bare breast.

The driver came opposite them, his head hanging out the car window, and came to a complete stop, his eyes seeming to bulge at the sight before him. Greg judged the man to be around forty or so, with glasses and almost no hair. His stare had changed to leering and Greg heard him mutter, "nice tits. Show me more."

Greg gladly obliged, stepping behind Michelle and pulling her other breast out of it's covering. The man gasped and licked his lips lasciviously, almost drooling as he stared at the lovely mammary mounds just a few feet from him. His voice was croaking as he begged, "come closer, come closer."

Greg pushed Michelle forward to where she was no more than a foot from the car and asked the excited middle-aged man, "want to feel?" He saw the man nod enthusiastically and granted, "go ahead, then. She won't mind."

Michelle just stood there, not looking at the man, but staring across the river, as the man stuck his hand out and fondled first one breast and then the other. He lightly pulled on her nipples and then squeezed as much of one breast as he could grasp in his hand. Greg could see the man's right arm jerking and he realized the man was jacking off as he felt Michelle's tits so he decided to give the man even more of a thrill. Without warning Michelle, Greg bent slightly and grasped the hem of her skirt and pulled it up to her waist in one swift motion.

It took an instant for the man to realize what Greg had now exposed to him and he gasped, "god, man, what are you doing? She's beautiful! Can I touch?"