Exposed Wives

by Loren Teese

  Exposed Wives

  Shown off by Their Willing Husbands

  Loren Teese

  Italian King

  Copyright © 2019 by Max Carezza Publishing

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the publisher.

  www.maxcarezza.com

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  My Husband’s Boss Is Touching My Butt! - Exposed to Three Strangers

  Exposed Wife – At the Nudist Beach

  Punished at the Peep Show - Oops! I've Been Caught Stealing in the Sex Shop

  My Husband’s Boss Is Touching My Butt! - Exposed to Three Strangers

  My daily routine always includes some time for my personal pleasure.

  Brian has usually long gone to work when I finish doing the chores. Sweaty from working in the summer heat, I always look forward to a regenerative shower. But every day, as I get naked, I start feeling tingles down my stomach.

  I wash my hair, my shoulders, my back, legs and ass, then I move to my boobs, and there my fun being: both the tender breasts and the pointy nipples are so sensitive… it has always been a turn on to me when they are touched.

  As I spread the soap on them, I always become needy. I move the water stream lower, spread my legs and let it caress my clit. I always end up sitting on the shower floor, my legs spread, my head tilted back against the wall while the stream titillates my button as thousands of little tongues.

  I used to love to be licked, but hubby never enjoyed it much, and he stopped as soon as we got married. Now the shower is my personal relief, the lover I can afford, the one taking me to the heights of my pleasure every day. Surely, I dream of a strong man to hold me, to spread my legs and lick me to a proper orgasm, but even if I can’t consider myself faithful – would you, to a man who hasn’t touched you in months? – I am not the kind of woman who easily expresses interest for other men. As such, I don’t even have the chance of such a rendez-vous happening.

  Things with my husband don’t go much well, lately. Our relationship is good enough, I’d say, but since he has started having issues at work… his nerves have kind-of cracked down and he doesn’t have the sex drive he used to have. Rationally, I can understand it: his company is having financial problems and there are voices they’ll fire either the Director of Finance or the Director of Accounting. To make it short, it’s either him or… a younger man who happens to be one of his boss’s pupils.

  I can take care of my orgasms by myself, of course, but more than a piece of hard meat inside me, I miss the foreplay and the teasing… the casual, sexy touches under my skirt while I cook, the kisses on my neck while I work at my PC, all those little things which help to maintain an active sexual life in the couple. Since the news of the acquisition started to spread, it has all stopped.

  Today, even if it’s a weekday, hubby is home. The foreign company he works for has a national bank holiday and a custom to give the free day to all abroad branches.

  So, to make it short, today I can’t touch myself, and I feel frustrated. I tried to go to the shower, but I don’t like to be forced to be silent… and I ended up unable to focus enough to bring me to my climax. In the end, my frustration just got worse.

  Luckily, my husband has offered to go out to the beach. It’s strange because he rarely wants to go out these months, but I think it may be a good way to distract him from his worries and please me at the same time. Indeed, he knows how much I love the lake and the nature around it.

  Moreover, the chances to be alone without our kids around are rare, nowadays. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it.

  ***

  The small lake created by a dam in a nearby river is the closest place we can spend some relaxing time. I love the tranquillity of the flat water, the shadow of the trees and bushes, the sound of birds and nature at its peak. The place is also provided with all kind of necessary services: bathrooms, bar, showers, boat renting… there’s no way to get bored, here.

  When we arrive, the beach is almost empty. It was expected of course: most adults are at work, kids are at school. There are sparse people around, mostly older men passing by the beach carrying fishing equipment, heading to better, quieter places. All boats are on the shore, the atmosphere is relaxed, lazy. Exactly what I need to get rid of the tension still building inside me.

  “Are you coming?” Brian calls.

  I’ve dozen off looking at the lake and he’s already far, crossing a wall of bushes leading to a smaller beach.

  We’ve never been here before, actually. We’ve always stayed at the main beach so the kids could play with their friends, and I’ve never noticed this smaller one. A line of high bushes separates it from the usually more crowded part, and trees growing so close to the shore make it unnoticeable.

  When I reach Brian, he simply lays the towels, sits on one of them and opens his newspaper.

  It’s strange: for once, we have all the time we want, all the time we need, and yet after half-an-hour here we still haven’t properly spoken.

  “What about a drink?” I ask, after a while.

  “Uh… Yes… Yes, a beer would be nice,” he says, diverting his eyes from the text he is absentmindedly looking at. He doesn’t stand up, though.

  “Can you go and get us drinks?” I ask, making my request more obvious.

  He didn’t use to be like this. He was the first to stand up and act before all of this began. As I look at him walking a couple of steps toward the bar and running back after realizing he didn’t take any money, I think I want my old husband back.

  Ten minutes afterwards, though, there’s no trace of him getting back. I must confess I’m easily worried these days, because of the situation. He doesn’t seem… mentally stable… as he used to be and… well, it’s normal to worry, no?

  I grab my small bag and leave our towels on the sand – no risk of someone stealing them – and walk to the bar to look for Brian.

  When I find him, though, I realize my worries were unfounded. Brian is talking with a man, and his glass of beer is already almost empty. It takes all my will to suppress the rush of anger building up inside me, but eventually – before making the last steps separating us and reveal myself to them – I manage to calm down. As soon as Brian sees me, he introduces me to his friend.

  “Nicole, here you are! This is Scott… you know… I always speak about him at home, it must be as if you know him already, right?” he says, looking down to avoid my eyes. He always does that when he’s nervous.

  Because… well, the man is not a friend. Actually, he is none other than the boss that is causing us so many problems.

  “I hope he says only good things about me,” the man says taking and shaking my hand.

  I wonder if I should tell him what Brian really says about him, but I know I’ll never do it. I just smile, barely considering the hand while catching the barman attention to order a glass of white wine for me. Soon, the two men are chatting like before.

  I try to get glimpses of Scott when he doesn’t look in my direction. He’s just a little taller than Brian, but he has way more presence. He’s completely bald, but his muscular chest is noticeably hairy. His thick neck, shoulders and arms reveal his past as a semi-pro boxer, thing my husband has often talked me about.

  Objectively, he is an interesting man. He seems polite, too, and filled with healthy self-confidence that doesn’t feel like arrogance. Yet, I can’t restrain myself from having prejudices. He may even be the best man in the world, but he’s still the cause of most of my problems, right now.

  I sip my white wine while answering my Twitter. Every time I raise my head and
look in the two men’s direction, though, my husband’s boss is looking at me. Smiling at me.

  Oh, I know that look: he is caressing me with his eyes, trying to figure out the parts of me still covered by the yellow bikini I wear today. I’m familiar to this kind of looks, but I’m usually more dressed when I get them. After all, even if already in my late thirties, I’m still considered a gorgeous woman. I was still young when I had my child and my body has fully recovered after the pregnancy. My tits, even if not huge, are still firm and big enough to fill my bikini bra. My ass is kept in shape by my morning series of squats, which I rarely forget to do. The way I gather my dark hair today, moreover, reveals most of my silky neck. Even so, I find it inappropriate to stare at a subordinate’s wife like that. Does he want to eat me, with those eyes?

  I reply with a bored smile and get back to my phone and wine. Only after a couple of minutes, Brian suddenly stands up and talks, loud enough to catch my attention.

  “Why don’t you join us?” he asks his boss.

  “He’s here alone,” he adds, as to explain furthermore his sudden proposal.

  “I’m sure he has his plans, Brian,” I try to say.

  “How can he? He lives alone, he has no-”

  Brian stops, realizing he’s going to say something impolite. Anyway, I already know Scott lives alone, I know he is divorced and has kids and an ex-wife living in a nearby city.

  “It’s OK,” Scott says. “I came here for a quick swim, but apart from that… I’m free, and will be happy to get some company.”

  Ruined. My day is ruined.

  ***

  I go back to the clearing where our towels lie, and wait until the two men arrive. I have to restrain the urge to eat my nails – something I’ve stopped doing since long – but my trembling legs betray my agitation. It needs all my self-control to calm down before Brian and Scott cross the bushes.

  “Good choice,” Scott says, looking around, at the empty spot we found.

  “T… Thanks.”

  I can’t avoid noticing how Brian is intimidated by Scott. It annoys me… but in a way, it has the effect of enhancing the boss’s powerful aura.

  Scott catches me looking at him two times, while he lays his towel at our feet to avoid choosing a side to give the most attention to.

  “I’ll go for a quick swim,” he says, and without even lying down on his towel, he leaves us alone.

  I look at his muscular back as he walks away, and at the firm butt that tops his thin legs. Definitely something worth to grab, I think, soon scolding myself for such thoughts. It must be my ruined orgasm routine, making me feel this sensitive, today.

  “Did you see that?” Brian suddenly asks.

  “What?” I ask.

  “The way he looks at you,” he adds. “I’m sure he thinks you’re hot!”

  I’m sure he thinks I’m hot, too, but it’s not something I’d tell my husband, like that.

  “And… So?”

  “Please… make me look good!”

  I frown at him, wondering if I’m understanding well what he means with that.

  “What do you even mean by that? You say he fancies me… even if it’s the truth, what should I do? He can talk to me and look at me as much as he wants already,” I say, feeling a shiver down my spine as I recall his bold eyes on me, just a minute before.

  Scott is already coming out from the water, though, and we must stop talking for the time being.

  I can’t stop thinking about what my husband says. Of course, if his boss fancies me, it may be a good chance to get into his good graces, but… what should I do? The last thing I want is my husband to get even worse than he is. If I can do something to help him keep the job, or even his worries to calm a little… wouldn’t it be a wife duty to do so?

  I’m still thinking about it when a woman and a man enter the clearing. They look good, probably in their early thirties, with bodies still in shape. They smile at us as they lay down their towels and then, as the most natural things in the world, they take off their clothes. The man gets completely naked, while the woman keeps only a tiny red thong, leaving her tiny breasts out in the open.

  I’m shocked, but even with a swirl of emotions taking possession of my belly, I keep my composure and pretend not to see them. A strange silence has fallen above us three, though. Something has suddenly changed.

  Trying to avoid speaking about the new couple, I ask Brian to pass me the tanning oil. Strangely enough, once he gets it, he offers to spread it on me himself. I lay down on my stomach and feel the rivulet of oil poured on my back, followed by my husband’s hands spreading it in circular motions. At first on my shoulders and neck, then down my arms, my trapeziuses. It’s then, that I feel him pulling my bra strings to unlace it, but everything happens so fast that before I can even complain, my back is naked. I hope he doesn’t see my goosebumps, because if the thought of having the oil spread on my body in front of my husband’s boss was disturbing enough already, being unable to pull myself up without exposing my breasts is a constraint that both fills me with unease, and gives me the thrills.

  Nobody talks though, and anyway, I can’t see Scott right now… maybe he isn’t even looking at me, with a barely covered woman just a couple of meters from us. I hope so, and I’m surprised by myself when I feel a rush of jealousy towards her… stealing the spotlight from me, like that.

  I feel another spurt of oil, this time on my legs. Brian has never been so tender, I think. He is caressing my skin as he has never done, with expert movements that I didn’t know he knew. As he slides his fingers from my ankles to my knees he spread my legs a little, before sliding his hands right between my thighs.

  Damn, I’m getting excited. I need my orgasm so much… I would be perfectly calm, after my morning time. But now, these hands on me are having an effect stronger than usual: I feel my sex is slowly opening, expecting something that my hubby, unfortunately, is not going to provide soon. I try to relax, as the oil is spread on my thighs, up to almost my pussy, and then following the shape of the yellow bikini panties covering half of my butt.

  From his position, just at our feet, Scott can see my pussy covered by the thin layer of cotton only. If he’s looking at me, it has to be said, but the possibility drives me crazy. Is my hubby keeping my thighs spread on purpose? Is he trying to… to give his boss a good show so he may get some benefits from it?

  I try to relax, but when I feel Brian’s fingers sliding under my panties border, I reach back with my hands, tie the bra once again and turn around to say it’s enough.

  The first thing I see is Scott, sitting, his legs crossed, one meter from my feet, looking at me. He just had a perfect view of what lays between my legs and seems amused by it. Not exactly the look I’d expect, after exposing myself like this.

  I turn to Brian with a questioning frown, but he doesn’t seem to care. Actually, my move backfires on me, because he suddenly squirts a new line of oil on my chest and stomach and, when he put his hands back on me and pushes my chest down, I realize I have to let him continue the job. Even if I could keep my eyes open – the shadow of a close tree is barely covering my face – I close them. I can’t easily cope with those looks at me. I know I would get even more excited than I already am.

  Maybe he’s looking at my pussy right now? Or at my breast moving under my husband’s hands? Is the other man looking at me too? I wonder as my hubby spreads the oil all around the hollow of my neck and cleavage. Then he begins caressing my stomach and, at this point, I find it difficult not to get overly turned on. My belly has always been a sensitive spot of mine and, the closer to my mound Brian gets, the more I feel the need of him sliding even further below. I need him to touch my lips, to make them oily and slippery. I need him to suck my clit, and I need him to slide his hard cock deep inside my pussy once again, after a long time. I crave to feel a man inside me.

  Soon, though, Brian stops caressing my body. The oil has been spread everywhere, there’s no need to continue. Only when
I open my eyes, I realize it’s not the only reason he has stopped, though. Both he and his boss are looking at a man that I didn’t notice arriving. He is alone, and after looking at him closely I realize he has gotten naked, too.

  “I’ll go get some beers, do you want some, too?” Scott asks, standing up.

  “I’ll get one, sure,” Brian says.

  “W… white wine for me, please,” I answer. I definitely need some more alcohol.

  A soon as we are left alone, Brian speaks.

  “Did you see how he was looking at you?” he says. He seems strangely excited. Is it because of the good consequences this could have on his job?

  “You gave him a nice show,” I complain, but he doesn’t seem to care much.

  “Oh, come on! He didn’t see more than he could already see,” he says hushing me with his hand.

  “You purposely spread my legs while he watched between them!” I whisper-shout. “It’s not the fact he couldn’t look there, before, it’s the fact you acknowledged it!”

  “Whatever, he is liking it. So don’t you dare do anything to ruin my chance,” he hurries to say before Scott appears again in the clearing and sits down at his place. He gives me the wine looking me up and down, analyzing my body as if Brian wasn’t even there. I ignore him, but I know he must be aware of my nipples getting harder.

  I sip half the wine so fast, that Brian and his boss still have to cheers with their beers when I put the glass down. Then Scott speaks.

  “I bet this is a nudist beach,” he says.

  “Can’t be, we’ve been here lots of times and-” I try to say, but Brian interrupts me.

  “Never in this exact spot. And maybe it’s like this only during the weekdays when there aren’t children around.”

  “Well, I’ll go and ask,” Scott says standing up at once.

  For the first time, my eyes dare to look at his groin. I’m not surprised to see the hint of a lump, there.

  Since I was expecting him to go and ask at the bar, I’m surprised when he moves towards the couple, though. He just goes there, crouch in front of the naked man and the beautiful, almost naked woman, and talks and laughs for a while.