Trophy Wife Pt. 02: Exposed

You could feel the excitement in the air. Maybe it was his promise that we were sure to enjoy this particular party, or his sly hints he dropped about the new toy that he and Natalie had bought, but our small group of swingers gathered in Mario's sumptuous gameroom seemed unusually eager that night. Neither Mario nor his charming wife Natalie in one of those of her slinky gowns, were there to greet us at the door. But the familiar group crowded in, helped themselves, and the party seemed to go on well enough without its host.

We had been there less than an hour, chatting, sitting around, drinking and smoking, when suddenly the lights went off; the crowd shifted in restless anticipation. There were a few whispers, quickly hushed. Somewhere, a woman giggled nervously. Then, dramatically, a single floodlight snapped on revealing the body of a nude woman sittung in a straight backed chair at the far end of the room, just in front of the fireplace.

* * * * *

I stiffened my body, sitting up, fully erect under the lights. I kept my clasped hands in my lap and waited, determined to stay calm; but I couldn't help working my fists in nervous anticipation. Now Mario stepped up to me, into the circle of light, momentarily blocking the audience's view. His closeness sent me tingling in anticipation. He paused. He smiled. He looked deep into my eyes. I felt his presence, his masculine presence; so reassuring, within a few inches of me as I sat in the rigid chair. A thrill of lust fluttered in my cunt. There was a question in Mario's eyes.

I nodded my obedience. I knew what to do; I bowed to him and kept leaning forward, offering him the thin strap that ran across my bent back. His deft fingers found the little clasp, and I felt the brassiere pop free, instantly released, to drop away till it was left dangling only by thin shoulder straps. My breasts were now magnificently free. They hung with a slight sway, totally exposed, and deliciously naked in the cool air of that quiet room

Mario nonchalantly disposed of the redundant lingerie, dropping it into the shadows. He motioned for me to straighten up, shoulders back, as he stepped away, giving our audience an unrestricted view as I sat there under the light, naked from the waist up. I had been told to keep my head high, just like a model, Mario said; letting my audience get their fill of my bare breasts, my upper body held rigidly erect under the glare of the spotlight.

As Mario stepped back, I was left sitting there alone, bare-chested, my perky breasts revealed to all the men and women in our unseen audience. A thrill raced through me. My nipples were tingling at the very thought of being left half-naked like that before the crowd. The audience moved restlessly; there were a few whispered comments, even some joking. A woman giggled; a man's voice hushed her. Then an unseen man loudly interrupted the subdued murmur by shouting in a rough crude voice:

"Let's have her play with her boobs," I felt the heat rising up in me; couldn't help flushing, deeply embarrassed when the impact of that lewd demand slammed into me! These people wanted to see me pleasure myself in public, like some sleazy whore in a raunchy strip club show.

"Go on...show us your tits", other voices chimed in, hooting and cheering, in a racous chorus. "...let's see them bounce a bit. Terribly embarrassed, I dropped my head, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Mario, who merely nodded and favored me with a sly wink.

I could do nothing but obey my masterful lover. Helpless, my hands moved entirely on their own. They formed two cups to hold my delicate breasts, raising them up, as though in offering to my remote audience. My extended thumbs, with a mind of their own, brushed over the sensate tips, sending a secret thrill rippling through my shoulders. The intensity left me breathless, sucking in air.

Mario took charge. "You heard the man. They all want to see your pretty titties, Babe. Go on, put on a show for us. Chest out." Here were wild cheers and rhythmic applause.

I arched my back slightly, sticking out my chest to the seated figures. A hush settled over the room, as. I caressed myself: holding the 'two neat handfuls' as Mario called them. I lavishly fondled my softly pliant breasts, hefting both, arching back as if in offering. A strong round of applause greeted my efforts at self-love.

"Now kick off your shoes and get up. I want you standing before our friends in your stockinged feet. Hands on your head." It was a pose he often placed me in... One I knew so well.

So, I moved till I stood with arms raised, hands on my head as he wanted, back arched and elbows turned outwards. I felt Mario's eyes caressing my posed body for his approval. "Now run in place, Babe. Go on...get those knees high. We want to see those boobs bouncing for us! I broke into a humiliating trot, eyes tightly shut, frisky breasts shaking and bouncing, before that roomful of people who cheered lustily.

The End