Work Meeting at a Naturist Pool

And who knows what else you don't tell me, because of the operation... that you don't like me anymore, that I don't turn you on, that you find me horrible!"

"No, what are you talking about, I think you're gorgeous, there's no secret, all the men in the world masturbate, what's that got to do with it...

Maybe there's something I haven't asked you to do, but... this is not the time..."

"Today is the time: I can feel it.

But I'll start, to make it easier.

I have some erotic fantasies... about you, about us.

I hesitated so much to tell you, but today you were so brave to denude yourself in public... you really surprised me... and I even got a promotion... today I want to confess one of my fantasies to you.

One has already come true, thanks to my friend Socorro: I've always wanted to see you kiss a woman in front of my eyes. And today it happened.

Therefore, today is the day when I will confess my most secret fantasy to you. Just promise me that you won't be mad at me".

"Of course... honey... but what are you saying... I could never hurt you..."

"I know. That's exactly the point. Ever since the operation you've been treating me with gloves on like I'm fragile. I'm not saying I wish you would hit me, or whip me with a BDSM flogger. No. What I'm asking for is a gesture of courage: I want you to fuck me, naked, in front of someone watching."

Oh. I was so shy that I couldn't walk around a pool naked, how could I find the courage to fuck her in front of witnesses who would see me naked? OMG... I could never succeed...

Marina swallowed in nervousness, then resumed explaining the details. 'You will have to be naked. Your shyness inhibits me, you were so brave today, I need you to be so brave forever. I know that I am asking a huge effort of you psychologically and for that, I want to propose something in return."

I looked into my wife's eyes but could not speak.

"Luigi: you have listened to my most secret fantasy. You didn't laugh at me, you didn't rage. I propose in return that you confess to me an erotic fantasy of yours. We have been married for many years, and we have had sex many times, yet I am sure that you too have some thoughts that you have never confessed to me. I swear that whatever you want to ask me, I won't laugh at you or be shocked.

Oh, with one exception: if you ask me to get pregnant just so you can kiss a turgid nipple as you did for Socorro, I'll immediately renounce it."

We laughed together, wholeheartedly.

Two children were enough for us, and after the breast operation, I would try anything to stay away from hospitals forever.

Seeing that I hesitated, Marina took my hand and clasped it tightly to her heart.

"Honey, I don't want to have sunk with a torpedo your one secret wish... do you want me to ask Socorro if she would agree to have sex with you, or with me while you watch? Was that really your erotic fantasy, to have sex with a pregnant woman?"

I stared into her eyes. She was drenched in sweat: her forehead beaded with large drops, her cheeks red, her chin wet with steam from the room. I was still standing in front of her and my cock was like a bridge between us.

Marina said something true: I had never confessed many of my fantasies to her. One, in particular, that we had only attempted many years ago, and had stopped immediately because she noticed it bothered her skin.

I would like to reopen the subject... because she was my favorite subject.... but everything connected with her skin, after the operation, made me fear that it would bother the scar... I wanted to ask something about her arms, but I feared that a movement of her shoulder might cause pain to her pectoral muscles... my brain could not make up its mind... and remained silent, as it had been for a long time, perhaps too long.

Several years ago, when we were newly married, I had bought some metal handcuffs to experiment with a little BDSM sex in a soft way.

But I, like an inexperienced beginner, bought a hard and uncomfortable object and had bruised her skin... I had immediately thrown the handcuffs away and we had never spoken about that fantasy again.

But I was always thinking about it, and unfortunately, Marina had guessed: it was a secret that I was ashamed to tell so as not to hurt her.

But while my brain remained silent, my mouth said:

"I want to cuff your wrists behind your back and fuck you, as my Slave".

My ears heard those words and my eyes confirmed that I had said it out loud.

I tried to embrace her, to make her feel my heart close to hers, but my wife put her wrists behind her back, knelt in front of my cock, and staring into my eyes said, "I'm your kneeling Slave... Master... I want to fulfill this fantasy of yours... right now," and began to blow me hard.

With her tongue, with her mouth, with her chin, and with her cheeks, Marina was working hard to get me aroused... with her tongue she was rubbing the frenulum, with her cheeks she was caressing the length of the entire shaft, with her lips she was sucking my balls... She had renounced the use of her hands, but by moving her knees she had come to touch my shin with her clitoris. With her thighs open, she was rubbing herself against me...

'Do you like it like that, honey? Do you want me to swallow? Are you happy with this blowjob from your slave?"

"Oh, yes, yes, I couldn't wish for anything else in the world..."

"I don't think so."

Who had spoken!? My wife remained motionless, her clitoris against my shin, and I was frozen (despite the steamy temperature of the room and my body) because my most intimate nightmare was being realized: to be discovered while naked in public!

We looked towards the back of the marble room, and right at the back was a young woman with short hair, sitting with calves against her thighs, fingering her and watching us.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Very indelicate of me, and untimely... for me. Carry on, don't mind petite Hilda."

'Pardon me, miss,' I said, 'let's leave now. Let's get out of your way" (I was anxious to escape to avoid embarrassment)

"No, sincerely... I wish you to stay."

"But you were here before us" I said, trying to reach the handle of the crystal door. But in front of the handle was my wife's head, who made no sign of escaping.

"Yes, and you didn't disturb me. I find it very exciting that two lovers are so sweet. please do go on..."

My wife cleared her throat, hesitating, then said, "Forgive us, miss, you will undoubtedly be of legal age, as it is a rule of our Company for all escorts..."

"Ah, yes, the Chemical Company, I remember... I can clarify any doubts with the utmost sincerity. Beyond the steamy fog of doubt. I'll be twenty-four this year, but I can understand that the steam doesn't allow you to see... wait..."

She stopped her masturbation, placed one slender foot on the floor, then the other, and stood up erect in all her tiny stature.

Also, my cock stood erect in all its stature. I wasn't sure if it was tiny, but it was all of it.

Hilda walked slowly towards us, calmly placing her bare foot on the marble. Maybe it was slippery, or maybe it was the way she always walked.

Which detail did I see first? Perhaps the dark green polish on her toenails? Or perhaps the emerald green eyes, under a tuft of sweaty hair? Or perhaps her lips, which drew an enigmatic curve between her nose and chin, happy but sad, bored but excited, serene but also conflicted?

No, my eyes saw first the chain of gold rings dangling between her dark nipples.

My first thought was not of lust but pain. I had once accidentally taken a sauna with a ring on my finger, and the metal had immediately become red-hot (or my skin is too sensitive). I thought of the pain a metal chain stuck inside my nipples must cause.

My second thought was not located precisely inside my skull. Seeing the chain dangling in the middle of that girl's nipples (24 years old? I don't know whether to believe you, baby girl...) caused my cock to become so erect that I involuntarily hit my wife on the nose. She was also staring at the chain.

Hilda stopped a step away from us, her wrists behind her back and her legs slightly apart. In the steam of the sauna, all her skin glistened with sweat, everywhere, but especially in the pussy that she had just solicited with her finger: her clitoris protruded all wet.

I tried to look away, but everything about her was arousing: her toes were small and skinny. I looked away again, but met Hilda's eyes: two emeralds amidst the fog.

I had only been in the steam bath for a few minutes and was already hot and drenched in sweat. In front of me, Marina was also sweating. She looked at Hilda's chained nipples with a mixture of admiration and pain, because like me she associated metal with bad experiences in the sauna.

In an attempt to relieve the tension I said, "A splendid piece of jewelry, young lady... Hilda, but aren't you afraid you might get burnt inside a Turkish bath?"

She looked down at her nipples as if she had been told about them for the first time in her life, then blinking she looked up at me from below and said "Oh... my nipples are pierced, but in saunas, I only wear these elastic rubber gasses. My lover gave them to me on a business trip. It's like a game the two of us play when we're apart: I tighten the elastic around my nipples and try to hold on inside the steam room, without the sweat making them slip off. And I masturbate thinking about my lover, who cannot come today, only tomorrow. This night, resisting will be hard... not as hard as this cock, I'd say."

"Oh... not even as hard as these nipples of yours, I think..." said Marina, softly.

Hilda looked curiously at my wife's torso; tilting her head to one side she asked, "Honestly, may I ask, do my boobs bother you?"

Tilting her head to one side she asked, "Honestly, may I ask, do my boobs bother you?"

"No, honestly not. I also have a daughter, and she has two magnificent tits. My friends have two boobs, my colleagues have two boobs. I think I am like a war veteran. I remember well that I had two boobs, but I'm aware that I have one, and I don't regret it anymore.

Before the operation, I was terrified of the idea... because no one had shared their experience with me. So, I have the habit of showing the scar and the tattoo very often, even to colleagues at work, to give as many people as possible hope that someone will survive, like me."

"Ah, I have already heard about you, then. They say you are a very sincere person."

"Both clothed and naked."

"Well, we'll see about that."

I felt the need to interrupt them. Two nipples chained within inches of my cock seconds after a blowjob in a wellness center was a situation I couldn't handle, and I was in danger of cumming at any moment. As calmly as I could, I asked, "May I know why you interrupted us?"

"You said you couldn't have asked for anything better."

"Indeed I did."

"I beg your pardon but sincerity is very rare in this world and even rarer between two lovers. Are you lovers or are you married?"

"Married."

"I listened to you very carefully. And I'm sure you asked to fuck her, not just get a blowjob. And also to be able to handcuff her, but from your tone and demeanor, I can guess that you want it to happen in complete safety, without hurting her, because you, from what I see and hear, appear to be a kind and caring man. Slightly kinky, but good.

Perhaps you would be generous enough, to settle for a blowjob without hands, instead of what you actually asked for: that she be handcuffed like a slave. But don't listen to me... carry on as if I'm not there."

"But you are there."

"Yes. Well. My lover is late and will arrive tomorrow. And I, despite all these people, felt very lonely. In our room there is an object that can help you: they are special handcuffs, very soft but very safe that don't leave bad marks on your skin. There are no belts on the chest, so nothing can hurt this delightful tattoo, or this nipple towering proudly on this beautiful mountain of yours.

The harness of cuffs is brand new, never used, still in the purchase box: we were supposed to use them tonight, but I am loverless tonight.

I only ask you to let me look at you... and masturbate me. Deal? What if I promise I won't even touch you with a finger? OK?"

We both remained silent. I didn't know what to reply. My wife was thinking about something else and kept wringing her hands. To stop that movement she took my hand and said: 'Even before, I had understood your secret desire. I have never told you. But today I want to tell you. You were so brave to denude yourself before, and now I want to be brave with you too: and I hope that the presence of this girl will help you to understand what I am about to tell you.

Luigi, you are too kind. You are thoughtful, ready, generous, and attentive. And you are too kind as if I were delicate as if I were fragile. At certain times of the day it is nice to feel cuddled, but at certain times... how should I say... when we are together alone..."

Hilda intervened "I can translate from girlish language: when you fuck her as if there was no tomorrow."

My wife twisted her mouth but did not deny it. "That's it: in certain moments, as this unknown girl says, I wish you were stronger, more overbearing.

The scar is healed now: I am strong.

I have the stamina of a rhinoceros.

I accept your fantasy, and I beg you to make love to me as if I was your Slave, in a prehistoric, rough, barbaric way.

That is why I wanted so much for you to come to this naturist weekend, and be naked: so that you would rediscover at least a little of the barbarian within you."

My wife stared at me: she was blushing, and not because of the steam. "Please don't be mad at me..."

"Marina: I love you. If I was gentle I did it for you. If that's all you want, let's go to the room and do it now."

Hilda exulted "Yay! Cupid has struck again!"

But my wife shuddered. "There is one more detail..."

"Tell me anything."

"Tied" whispered my wife as she blushed even more, and looked down at Hilda's feet.

"Of course, the office dress code calls for a tie. Did you put it in the darker trolley?"

"Wake up Mr. Husband, that your wife said TIED."

"But honey, but how can I... you're too much... and then the scar... I'm afraid of hurting you! I'm afraid I won't be able to help!"Marina stood up. "Enough with the scar! You treat me as if I were a glass about to shatter! And instead, I want you to treat me like a grown-up!"

I had to sit down. Too much emotion, and too hot. Too steamy.

Hilda stepped forward and stood between us. "Listen to me: it's too hot to fight in here. It's nice to share your innermost thoughts, but first, you need a cold shower. You two can wash your sweat off to the right, I'll be there."

Hilda opened the door and went out. The two of us could have disobeyed, but the young woman had charisma and was very persuasive. And the hope that she had a solution led us to follow her advice.

In silence, we left the Turkish bath to take a shower. Just outside to the right were two showers. There was no one there, maybe it was late: had all gone to sleep, or had sex in their rooms.

Naked people finish much sooner than those wearing a swimming costume.

The skin pores breathed in the release after the stressful temperatures of the steam room. We washed in silence while I ruminated on the meaning of sincerity.

A second shower was made by colorful, perfumed sprayers: Marina now smelled of vanilla and I of sandalwood.

In front of us, petite Hilda, barefoot, had reached a shower that included a large wooden bucket set in the balance. Pulling on a rope, a bucket of icy water poured down on her. Happy, she let out a shriek of joy, then came to "warm herself" in the cold shower. Her nipples had become as hard as nails, and the chain danced with her every step. She wore no slippers: that's why we had thought there was no one there.

The petite brat hurriedly dried the tuft of short hair above her forehead, then motioned for us to follow her.

"Follow me," said Hilda, "the solution to your problem is simple."

We reached the doors of the large lift, drying ourselves with the hotel towels: but at no time did I think of covering myself, although it was the only time of day when it would be perceived as permissible.

Hilda stopped us by raising her palm.

"The solution for you is that I lend you my bedroom: I will sleep on the couch if you allow it. Your presence will soothe my loneliness if you will allow me to masturbate while I watch you fuck: I swear I will not touch you, only watch.

And this will fulfill your wife's fantasy.

And she will allow you to fuck her while she is handcuffed: fulfilling your fantasy.

Quid pro quo. I mean... Do ut des... or something.

And if someone has a muscle cramp or a pain in the epidermis, you will know that there is an alert and attentive person who can summon medical help, or even order strawberries and cream with a bottle of champagne."

My wife nodded. Me too.

The young woman pressed the button to call the lift. We entered in silence, almost embarrassed: Hilda knew which floor to go to. I kept my head down, staring at the dark green polish on her toenails. The embarrassment was palpable: it seemed as if the lift would take hours to arrive.

In the corridor, Hilda was hopping like a sprite. She opened the door to the junior suite. It was dark, and Hilda did not turn on the light with the key, but went straight to the refrigerator, to check for champagne. By the dim light of the fridge, she pointed us to the bedroom.

We entered hesitantly, but also excited: it would be the first time in our lives that the two of us would have sex in another couple's hotel room!

Handing me a sealed cardboard box, Hilda said "my lover bought this harness, it is brand new and sealed: my decision will be appreciated. You will use it: it is a gift." Then she went back to the fridge and returned with a tray, three crystal glasses, and a bottle of expensive champagne. 

Chapter 9. Collared and cuffed in Hilda's Bedroom.

The object Hilda gave us was made of soft leather, black. There was a very soft, adjustable collar to close with a belt around the neck. On the back was a wide black leather band, with three snap hooks on each side, to close the manacles of the biceps, elbows, and wrists.

My wife and I looked at the photograph of the model, and carefully examined the harness. Each manacle was closed with a buckle: even if Marina had managed to free one wrist, she would not have been able to reach the next manacles. The harness was wide enough to allow my wife to lie down without resting her ribcage on her arm bones.

I was full of insecurities and doubts. I looked up from the object of my desire to my desired wife. I was about to say "let's drop the Play, I won't dare force you..." but saw a flash of lust in her eyes, as she bit her lower lip in a smile mixed with desire and pleasure.

"I will be your slave... Master... naked and handcuffed to this harness... just for you."

And with her tongue, Marina traversed the whole arc of her sweet upper lip.

"Only for you... in front of this gentle young woman, who will witness my submission."

Hilda smiled. "I have promised not to touch, sexually, but I can help. An inexperienced person is likely to take a long time to fasten the straps herself, and if you want, dear, I will accompany you to the bathroom and help you get ready.

And if you are honest with me, I will listen to your doubts and hopes, your favorite songs, and the perfume you like and help you be a perfect Slave for a night."

Marina nodded, relieved at the worry of not being able to complete the self-bondage, forced to show herself to me halfbound and half-strapped: an image that would also have been sweet, like a child bringing her first cake baked in the toy oven half-baked and half-raw. Sweet, but not what she had in mind that evening: and neither did I.